Bella's Torment
by Raisin Cookies
Summary: Ever wanted to run away and hide? Bella does. Only she's got nowhere to run to. Kidnapped and sold to life she never knew existed, she can kiss goodbye to her future-or can she? Rated M, please don't read if you don't like. 1st Twilight FF
1. Chapter 1

It was mid autumn, and a thin layer of frost was already covering the ground, a sure sign that the locals would be in for a cold winter. The leaves on the trees had turned vibrant shades of yellows, oranges and reds, crisp and curling they flittered and circled the roads and lanes, carried on the blustery winds that roamed the rolling valleys of the picturesque French countryside.

The rented red Ford ambled steadily along, allowing the four passengers to take in their postcard perfect surroundings; Mum, Dad, the obligatory sullen teenage boy, and Abbey, their youngest at 6 years old.

"Look Mummy", she cried with delight as she smooshed her finger against the car window, "a castle, do you think that's where the Princesses live?"

Her mother glanced in the direction Abbey was pointing in, to a fairytale French chateau, Abbey stared in awe, with its rolling lawns set well back from the main road, its turrets and flags, it would be the ideal place for a princess to live.

The rented red Ford sped on, whilst Abbey day dreamed of the Princesses in the Castle, going to balls with their Princes, huge feasts and tea parties with iced cakes and crumpets. The car gets further and further away, until it is nothing but a tiny speck in the distance, and then finally gone.

If this were a film, and we were the viewers, this would be the point where the camera starts to pan in on the fairytale castle, we would led up the winding driveway, shadowed by tall oaks, and littered with their falling autumnal leaves and split conkers, and over the gravelled area directly in the front of the building, we would be swept up the magnificent stone steps, past the giant granite pillars and through the heavy brown mahogany door and finally we would get to the real splendour. The well polished and waxed floorboards, the thick, plush ruby carpets, ornate picture frames which house oil paintings of stern looking men in white wigs, elaborate vases with wild and colourful arrays of flowers and heathers, trinket boxes, a grandfather clock which ticks rhythmically in the hallway; its pendulum never stopping.

The room smells heavily of cleaning products; furniture polish and wax; and of course the fresh flowers.

Men and woman mill around the two main reception rooms to the left and right of the entrance way, chatting in small groups as new acquaintances are made, and old friends catch up. There is a feeling of joviality and excited apprehension in the air. A portly older gentleman in a white suit with a red carnation enters the room, he claps his hands together, sharply, gaining his guests attentions. His head is shiny and balding, his eyes cold and black, his ascent is thick French.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he addresses them, "thank you all so much for coming today, I know that some of you have travelled a great distance to be with us. I must say that it has been a long time since I last held one of our little get-togethers". The guests chuckled, many of them nodding in agreement, "so", he continued, "today's auction items are already on display for those of you hoping to make a purchase today, you will have thirty minutes to view the items before the auction begins". He glanced quickly around the room looking pointedly, "I see no need to reiterate the rule book, you all know them well enough by now. And finally, if you could all please follow me, we shall make our way through to the ball room and begin the proceedings".

Edward and Emmett Cullen were one of the last few to enter the grand ballroom, the atmosphere from within the room was already electric, and given the occasional shriek and whimper, following by hearty laughter, it was clear that the fun had already started.

Emmett scanned the room, his face breaking into a broad grin as his eyes fell upon a wriggling captive, struggling ferociously to be freed, "what about that one there?" he asked with a playful nudge in the slave's direction.

Edward turned his head to survey the struggling brunette, "too much cock for my liking I'm afraid, but don't let me stop you if you want to make a purchase of your own today", he responded slyly as he walked away from his brother.

The pair circled the room, stopping occasionally to view some of the girls, once they had viewed them all Edward turned and headed back to Lot 19. She was a petite brunette, a little on the skinny side given that he could make out her ribs. She, like all of the other captives, had been blindfolded for the event by a soft black sheepskin blindfold, her arms tied taught above her head, her ankles held wide apart by an adjustable spreader bar, however two aspects of her attire where different from all of the others, the first, she was naked apart from a simple pair of white cotton panties, the reason; it was to highlight that she was still a virgin, untouched and pure and therefore not to be poked and prodded at by any of the prospective buyers. The second, whilst all of the others were forced to wear ultra high, black patent stilettos, she was not. Edward reached out his hand, touching her torso with feather light fingers, his dark eyes remained watching her face for her reaction. She whimpered, balking back to get away from another set of probing hands, she sniffed quietly, biting her lower lip to hide the tremble.

He tilted his head to one side, "this one is quite captivating".

"Hmm...not as striking as the blond though," Emmett replied.

Edward smirked, "was she blond?" Their friendly banter was quickly silenced as the auction hammer sounded, indicating that it was now time for the sales to begin.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N First of all, in my excitement to post the first chapter I completely forgot to write my disclaimer. Just encase any of you thought I owned Twilight....I don't, I own nothing.**

**Secondly, thank all of you so much for your reviews and all of you who have added me to your favourites and/or alerts. Your support means the world to me.**

**And thirdly and finally, and huge thanks to ****karinounie who has kindly asked to rewrite the story in French.**

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**Bella's POV**

Frightened and alone I pulled my legs tightly into my chest, wrapping my arms around them securely. I wondered again, for what must have been the millionth time, if I would ever make it out of my current, rather precarious, situation alive. I truly did fear for my life. The bumpy stone wall of my cell room dug painfully into the naked flesh of my back and yet all I could think about was getting as far away from the cell door as humanly possible. In the back of my mind I wondered to myself if I thought that if I kept pushing back I would somehow disappear through the wall and escape to freedom once more.

I shivered; the air in the room was icy cold but with a thick musty smell from the lack of fresh air. I had always hated the cold, always opting for warmer sunnier climates. I thought back to the stone patio at my Mom's house in Phoenix, the warm summer evenings when I would sit on it for hours writing in my journals. I missed the heat. I missed my house, and I missed my Mom.

I was drawn quickly back to my present confinement by a scream from one of the other girls in another cell, it echoed loudly along the bare concrete corridors, it had obviously startled more than just I as some of the others yelp out in fright, others sobbing out words of pleading to our tormentors. The iron doors of cells began to creak open, slamming against the stone walls, and the shouts and screams became louder and louder at the foray worked its way quickly towards me. My heart thudded violently within the confines of my chest, my breathing became loud and laboured, and tears leaking from my eyes as my fear grew to such a level I was sure my heart would explode.

My turn was next. My eyes grew wide as the key scraped in the door lock before crashing open with such a force I could have sworn that the thick stone wall vibrated behind me. An overweight man with bad skin and greasy dirty blond hair stood grinning menacingly from the entranceway, he stepped towards me, leering at me, and I raised my hands to cover my face as he threw some objects in my direction.

Two of the objects collided with me, one hitting against the palm of my hand, and the other bounced painfully off of my shin, I lowered my hands and looked, a pair of shiny black shoes and a pair of white knickers, which had not quite reached me, lay strewn on the floor.

"Get dressed", the man ordered. I reached out tentatively to the underwear, eager to at least be able to wear something again. "Quickly!" he barked at me. I quickened my pace, grabbing them off of the floor and hastily threading my feet through the leg holes and up to cover me, I then reached over to the shoes, jamming them onto my feet. I hoped I didn't need to wear these long, ever since I was a child I had been cursed with clumsiness, although I personally preferred the term _uncoordinated_.

I gasped as the man thundered towards me in his heavy black boots and grabbed my upper left arm, pulling me unceremoniously to my feet and out of the room. I was crying harder by now, the tears clouding my visions making it nearly impossible to see as I was dragged half naked from my tiny cell. Outside it was chaos, girls screaming and struggling, I was bashed into and clawed at as I made my way along the hallways. I stumbled a few times, wanting to curse the shoes but I could no longer speak as I wailed out my panic. Eventually the man grew impatient with me as I tumbled to the floor once again, banging both of my knees against the stone floor, he backhanded me across the face, making contact with my right cheekbone, and for a second I actually managed to stop crying as I sat stunned on the floor, and then the pain started, I whimpered out as I clutched my cheek, staring up at him, my lower lip trembling. The man offered no sympathy, opting instead to roughly remove the shoes from my feet and dropped them onto the floor with a clattered. He hoisted me to my unstable feet again and we continued on, but not before he slipped a blindfold over my eyes.

Eventually we stopped walking, I started to struggle against him as I soon as I realised that he was trying to tie me up, but try as I might he was far stronger than me. Cuffs were quickly buckled around my wrists and ankles, my arms raised taught above my head and my legs held open by my bindings. He patted the side of my cheek patronisingly and before he left, whispered into my ear something about the louder I scream, the more they'll pay.

Other girls were brought into the room, all of them whimpering and crying, the door shut with a bang and we were left alone to contemplate our current positions. The time seemed to drag on and on, and I eventually managed to calm myself down a little. I gave myself encouraging pep talks, but all my good work flew quickly out of the window the second the door reopened.

The blindfold was still covering my eyes and I couldn't tell how many people had entered the room. It wasn't long before I was being touched all over my body by many hands, they were groping my chest and torso, roughly pawing and slapping my ass, the worst was when they began to feel between my legs and I hastily sob out in alarm, my stomach churning.

Only a few of the hands were gentle on me.

Not before long a loud bang echoed through the room and a male voice called out bringing the auction to order. The bile rose in my mouth and I swallowed hard. _This can't be happening_ I told myself, _this __cannot__ be happening_. _This is a mistake, they can't do this, can they? _

_

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_**Sorry if you think this chapter doesnt really mesh well. I felt this chapter was a bit long but I also wanted to get across how Bella was feeling and not just have her appear in the auction room.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Thanks again to all of you who have been reviewing and who have added me to your favourites and/or alerts. It's definitely been great encouragement to keep going! :o)**

**Thanks again to ****karinounie who is re-writing Bella's Torment in French, I hope you like the new chaper!**

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And then it was over.

As quickly as it had begun, it was _all_ over. I had no idea what Lot. Number I was; only that I was numbered somewhere between 1 and 25, my sight still hampered by the blindfold. All around me the room seemed to burst with energy again, voices congratulating one another on their great new purchases, and commiserations to ones who had missed out. I jumped at someone clapped their hand against my stomach, much like one would to pet a horse, "Congratulations, Sir," an enthusiastic voice beamed, "I hope that you enjoy your new purchase, and remember if you ever need a replacement we also have a part-exchange offer for our most valued customers".

I felt sick, I could almost see myself rolling my eyes at him; he sounded like a seedy car salesman. My nose wrinkled at the overpowering stench of his cheap aftershave and I wondered for a moment if he _had_ actually marinated himself in the stuff. An image flashed in my mind of a weasely looking man with black, shiny lacquered hair and a cheap suit.

And then came _the voice_. My head swivelled in its direction almost immediately as soon as I heard it, it was soft yet deep, rolling, poetic yet very masculine. If it were possible, it was like _listening_ to velvet.

"Oh, I don't think that will be necessary..." was the words that followed, the voice carried on talking, but I couldn't hear it, I knew this feeling from before. My skin broke out in a clammy cold sweat as stomach began to slosh like a washing machine. The sound in my ears was like been under the water at the swimming pool and all of the other voices sounded distant and echoed. My head felt increasingly heavy on my weak shoulders and then after a second it flopped forward.

And then the patting. I'm not sure when it had started but oh god how I wished that they would stop patting my face, it was really annoying. I wanted to tell them to stop, but I had to settle for moaning out my displeasure as I couldn't seem to get my mouth to work, it was drier than the desert and for that brief moment in time my mind blocked out where I was and instead focused on the image of an icy cold glass of water.

The patting stopped, but my ears still felt clogged, my eyes refusing to open; not that it mattered as I was still blindfolded. But I didn't mind, for the first time in weeks I felt warm. I tried to regain my senses and it was then that I realised I was being propped up against someone, and the comfortable warmth was nothing more than being in close proximity to them. I lurched my body forward, attempting to scramble away from whoever had been holding me, but the pain in my muscles from being bound up for so long immediately exploded in my arms and legs and all I managed to achieve was to flop forwards pathetically as I cried out from the white hot pain.

"I think she's awake," _the voice_ stated in amusement, "we shall be leaving now". And with that, I was up-righted onto my feet; I swayed a little as my muscles continued to scream out in protest and I clenched my jaw to try in fight the pain back down. My wrist cuffs were fastened together in front of me as I was slowly led from the room.

For me to be able to walk in a straight line without falling was a daily challenge for my uncoordinated limbs; but without the use of my eyes it was a near impossible feat. I stumbled to the ground at least three times, yet each time the man with 'the voice' would wait patiently for me to get to my feet before leading on again, as I walk I tried desperately to keep my arms up in a bid to cover my still naked chest.

I balked as we eventually reached the front door, I _was_ still virtually naked with bare feet, and the cold wintery air cut through me like a knife which sent a shiver down the entire length of my body, I halted immediately.

He spoke to me softy but in a commanding tone, "come on kitten, let us not start this nonsense now. Just a few more steps and we'll be in the car, and then this place will be nothing but a bad memory". I paused, the cold still biting at my naked flesh, before I shuffled forward. "That's a girl," he whispered as he ruffled my hair. He led me down the stony steps one at a time, I gasped out at the final step when my foot made a surprisingly painful connection with the gravel drive, but luckily for my feet the car wasn't far away and I soon found myself being guided into the backseat and being told to kneel down on the floor. The door shut with a soft click behind me, and then someone got in next to me. The engine started and the car pulled away from the house, the house of nightmares. On one hand it was a relief to be leaving, but on the other I was now entering into the great unknown, I questioned what kind of a person would purchase another human being, and I realised right then and there that this would not be my escape, these people were not be trusted and I vowed to myself that I would run, get away, at the first opportunity.

There were two other men in the car, alone with the one who I imagined had bought me; the one with the deep velvety voice. The three of them spoke amongst themselves, ignoring me completely for the entire duration of the car journey. I curled my body closer to the floor, shirking away from them, pretending that I wasn't there, and secretly hoping that if I stayed quiet they might forget about me.

It was not to happen. The car was warm and, despite my seating arrangements, it was comfortable and I soon fell into a light sleep with my head resting against the seat. I awoke with a jolt as the car came to a stop following by the opening and shutting of the car doors; I was pulled from the back and found myself standing on cool concrete. We set off on foot again where I was challenged by yet more blinded walking as I was forced to trust the directions of these strange men. We eventually got to an elevator, and then carpets, through doors until we eventually came to a stop.

"Kneel down," _the voice_ ordered me.

I waited for instruction once I had taken my place on the floor, the room was deadly quiet but my ears had pricked up at the unmistakable sounds of traffic from outside. It was hushed, but it was defiantly there and I felt my heart soar at possibility of somehow managing to make a run for it. My head was too full of my cunning plans for escape that I jumped in surprise as the blindfold was finally removed.

I blinked several times as my eyes tried to adjust to the bright lights of the room.

And there he was.

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**I hope you all like (I have my fingers very tighly crossed)!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N - Eeek! Thank you all soooo much for your reviews. I'm truly amazed!**

**Karinounie - Thank you very very much for continuing to update for the French readers**

**KristenStewartFan**** – yes, Alice, Rosaline and a few others from the Twilight cast will appear in this story but it**** probably won't be for another few chapters.**

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Chapter 4

Edward's POV

Reaching out I gently tugged off the blindfold that had covered the delicate features of her face for the past few hours. I had wanted to remove it since the first moment I saw her; longing to look into her sweet chocolate brown eyes; and now the moment had come. Her eyelids fluttered and she screwed up her face as her vision slowly adjusted to the brightness of the room. In truth, the room wasn't that bright, I had known that given the poor living conditions she had found herself trapped in for the past few weeks, or had it been months, she would be very sensitive to any light. I had planned ahead for this eventually and had only dimly lit the room prior to removing her blindfold.

She looked up at me; her hands covering her still bare chest, she was kneeling on a floor cushion at my feet as I leant forward, my elbows resting on my knees as I propped my chin up in my hands. I studied her face. The expression was priceless, at that moment she was like an open book to me. So many emotions; fear, confusion and surprise, all bubbled away at the surface. I tried to hold back the smile that was desperately trying to consume my face, she was mine, all mine. The delightful little creature in front of me belonged to me. I longed to reach out and comfort her, hold her in my arms and tell her that she was safe, but that would hinder the approach I would be using with her. Right now she was afraid, and unfortunately I would have to use that fear to my advantage in order to mould her into my life.

I watched silently as she studied me, taking in my relaxed stance, her eyes flickered to my face, my hair, finally falling on the well worn leather and platinum Cullen crest that adorned my right wrist.

I raised my eyebrow, "not quite the monster that you were expecting, Isabella?"

Her wide eyes flew to my face in shock and I watch as she gulped before quickly looking away. I chuckled, her reactions were priceless. "I imagine that you may have some questions for me, Isabella?" I asked her softly.

She looked at me again, nervously, and after a moment of quiet contemplation she slowly nodded. Ah, I thought, she was afraid, but not so afraid that she wouldn't voice her questions. Gently she parted her rose-petal pink lips.

"Who are you, where am I?" she whispered softly. Her voice; so delicate, so feminine and so fearful; licked at my eardrum. If these hadn't been the obvious questions I had been expecting then I would have struggled to hear her.

I leant closer to her, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of her mahogany hair behind her ear, "I am your owner," I stated simply, "I bought you. You may call me 'Sir' for the time-being. And as for where you are, it is of no consequence, we will not be staying here long." I gestured with my hand, "this is merely a stop-gap, you will be able to come home with me tomorrow."

She listened to my answers and then parted her lips to say something else; I pressed my index finger to her lips, silencing her. "I think that's enough for now, Isabella. You've had an exciting day; you don't want to overwhelm yourself, do you?"

She shook her head.

I smiled and rose to my feet, "excellent, come with me, Isabella." I watched as she pulled herself to her feet, still demurely covering her chest. I secretly wondered how long it would take her to start cheekily flaunting her breasts to me like the little vixen that she was; I licked my lips at the thought.

I led her from the sitting room and through the master bedroom to the en suite where I began to fill the tub. I turned to her, "take a bubble bath, Isabella. Soak, relax and don't forget to wash your hair." I critically rubbed a strand of her hair between my fingers, it was dry and knotted. "I'll never know why they sold you in this state," I muttered quietly.

With that, I turned on my heel, calling back over my shoulder, "All of the toiletries are on the counter, help yourself Isabella. I will be back in 40 minutes, ensure that you are finished for when I return. Do not close the door; privacy is _not_ for slaves, Isabella".

I loitered in the bedroom for a moment, to ensure that she was following my instructions, however, I hastily carried on walking the very minute I heard her muffled sobs.

I called room service, settling on ordering her a cheese burger, fries and a diet coke. I could see her ribs, she needed fed.

I went to the wardrobe to see if I had anything suitable that Isabella could wear for returning home in tomorrow. It had never been my intention to attend the auction, never mind make a purchase. But Emmett, Jasper and I had bumped into an old friend and I had been pressed into attending. My brothers had already found suitable matches, Emmett through an auction, and Jasper had played the night in shining armour by requesting the private sale from an owner who had been cruelly mistreating his slave.

I had never expected for a moment to actually find someone at the auction, but there was something about that girl, who was now crying in my bathroom, that sang out to me; and I had to have her. However, this turn of events had left me somewhat ill prepared, as in the only clothing she had was a pair of white cotton panties. I mused at the idea, it did have its benefits – her naked chest, but even I wasn't that mean. I selected a pressed white dress-shirt from the hanger and placed it on the bed; _she could sleep in that for this evening_.

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The food arrived and I went to fetch Isabella, "Isabella, time's up," I called. She was already standing in the doorway, waiting, apprehensively.

She had wrapped herself in a terrycloth bathrobe which swapped her tiny frame. She tugged nervously on the sleeve, "is it okay..." she trailed of uncertainly.

I smiled, "of course Isabella, you mustn't get cold. Once you're dry there is a shirt on the bed for you to put on". She was dry already and quickly made the switch. She was cute in my shirt, I liked it. "Come here, are you hungry?"

I watched as she mentally assessed herself before shaking her head. I furrowed my brow. She _must _have been hungry, it was a well known fact that the auction houses did not feed the slaves for a least a day prior to the sale for fear of them vomiting through fright once they were on the auction block. Then again, perhaps her nerves were so frayed that she wasn't able to differentiate it from her hunger.

"Well," I said kindly, "I want you to try and eat something, even it's only a little bit, okay?" She nodded reluctantly and followed me.

"Sit down on the cushion again, Isabella."

I set the plate of food and coke down in front of her; she stared at it and then me. Then stared at it again, and then me again.

"Eat", I prompted.

She timidly selected one of the fries, keeping her eyes on me the whole time; she raised it slowly to her lips. I smiled at her. She carefully bit into it, chewed it and then swallowed. She was testing me, to see what my reaction would be. I kept smiling. I probably looked like a psychopath, but nodding and smiling was all I could do to encourage her to eat at this point in time. She popped the rest in her mouth and started chewing again.

"Good girl," I praised her. I decided to let her eat in peace, rather than have me, a big grinning idiot loom over her and put her off. Half way through her meal, door knocked, it was Jasper.

He entered the room with a Simone Perele Fidji carrier bag, glancing quickly at Isabella he handed it to me. "I bought these for Alice, but, given the circumstances, I don't think she'll mind."

I opened the bag spotting several sets of new underwear and I nodded my thanks to Jasper. I moved through to the bedroom, setting the bag on the floor, and Jasper followed.

"How is she holding up?" he questioned.

I nodded, "surprisingly well".

"It'll take her a while to adjust," he smiled and chuckled, "I remember this one time, when Alice was still getting settled, when she..."

**BANG!**

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**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Okay, Okay! I got the impression from some of the reviews of chapter 4 that some of you didn't really appreciate the cliffy. If I promise not to do that anymore, will you forgive me?**

**And, we seem to have a small division on our hands, some of you are loving dark Edward (me included) and others...well...not so much lovin' for the darkness.**

**Thanks again to everyone who has review, and /or added to alerts. You all get free cyber cookies as a big thank you! :o)**

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Bella's POV

I looked up at the man who sat before me. I feared him.

The thing is, after the sale, during the car journey, through all of the being led down corridors and across gravel driveways, I had somehow convinced myself that once the blindfold was off, it would somehow all be a bit better. But it wasn't.

Maybe it had been because this, this man, had not been what, or who, I had been expecting. In my rational mind I had told myself that there was a clear reason why a person would feel the need to purchase another human being; like a piece of livestock at a cattle market. That this person would most likely be the not so distant cousin of Quasimodo.

But he wasn't, and that's what made it worse.

He was extremely attractive. He was completely at ease sitting in front of me in the comfortable looking armchair. His hair was dark with coppery undertones, and it was just too perfectly messy to simply just describe as 'messy', if that makes sense. His suit was black, expensive looking, and underneath he wore a plain white dress shirt, open at collar. The leather cuff on his right wrist caught my eye, it looked oddly out of place compared the rest of Mr. I-just-walked-off-the-front-cover-of-GQ's attire.

I was so confused, what on earth did this man want with me? Because that's what he was, a man, in every sense of the word. Where was the evil monster that I would hate at first sight? His grotesque features that would haunt my nightmares for years to come? Well, if I lived that long.

Even as terrified as I was, I could still recognise a good looking guy when I saw one.

"Not quite the monster that you were expecting, Isabella?" his velvet voice questioned, taking me by surprise.

He knew what I had been thinking, was I really that easy to read? I swallowed hard and looked away nervously, noticing the room that we were in, for the first time. It had been tastefully decorated, lots of dark wood furniture and creamy neutral wallpaper with thick heavy curtains. It was nice, but not to my taste.

My bedroom at home, in Phoenix, had been an extension of my own personality. I pictured the messy CD collection in the corner next to my CD player, the rows of books, organised haphazardly in a filing system that only I could understand. The pinboard on the wall, overcrowded with ticket stubs and photographs. Spike, my potted cactus, growing on the windowsill. I stilled at the memory of when my mother had attempted to remove him a few months ago, this had been following her latest fad, exclaiming that a cactus in the house was bad for fung shui.

Maybe that's why I was here. Maybe Spike had funged my shui?

"I imagine that you may have some questions for me, Isabella?" he asked me softly.

I did. I did have questions.

"Who are you, where am I?" I asked. I never expected my voice to sound as raspy as it did; it came out as a whisper, a whisper which I had fully intended to have to repeat so that Mr. GQ could actually here me. But he must have heard, because he answered me.

He leant over and gently tucked a strand of my lank dirty hair behind my ear. Had I not been so stunned that he touched me I would have ducked back immediately.

"I am your owner," he stated coldly, "I bought you. You may call me 'Sir' for the time-being. And as for where you are, it is of no consequence, we will not be staying here long." he gestured vaguely to the room with his hand, "this is merely a stop-gap, you will be able to come home with me tomorrow."

Owner? Sir? What the hell?

I opened my mouth to ask what that meant, but before I had the chance to voice my question he pressed a finger tightly against my lips to silence me.

"I think that's enough for now, Isabella. You've had an exciting day; you don't want to overwhelm yourself, do you?"

I shook my head. Although it had been a question, I wasn't stupid. I wasn't about to push my luck and end up dead in a ditch somewhere.

He got to his feet; he was tall, way taller than me.

"Excellent, come with me, Isabella." He ordered.

I followed, _it's okay Isabella_, I told myself. _Just play the game, and when the opportunity presents itself, run, run like the wind. And scream_, I added. _Run and scream_.

Shakily I got to my feet; I was using my hands to cover my chest. There was no way that I wanted Mr, sorry _Sir_, GQ to see me naked. I wondered if I would be less embarrassed if I was being made to parade around half naked in front of Quasi instead of Sir GQ.

He led me to a bathroom, and began to fill the huge bathtub. I stared longingly at it, watching as he added bubble bath, and the clouds of steam hung in the air. I barely noticed when he reached out to touch a strand of my hair.

"Take a bubble bath, Isabella. Soak, relax and don't forget to wash your hair. I'll never know why they sold you in this state,"

I flushed with humiliation, as he criticised me and then walked away. It wasn't really my fault I was in the state I was in. I tentatively reached up to my hair, it was dry and knotted, and in serious need of a good wash.

"All of the toiletries are on the counter, help yourself Isabella. I will be back in 40 minutes, ensure that you are finished for when I return. Do not close the door; privacy is _not_ for slaves, Isabella".

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Slaves?

Is that what I was? A slave? Despair consumed my body in an instant, like I had been possessed by it, and that was all it took to break me at that very moment. I crumbled, sank to my knees and began sobbing on the bathroom floor, my hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my wails.

I must have remained there crying for at least 5 minutes, the only reason I stopped was because I had exhausted myself. It was the first time all day that I had been alone, and in a short space of time everything had changed. I held an uncertain future, as a slave. I had no idea what would become of me, but I did know that the future looked bleak.

Eventually I calmed down enough to see sense; the tub was full of hot, clean, soapy water, something which I hadn't seen in a long time. I pulled myself slowly to my feet, checking to make sure that he wasn't spying at the door before uncovering myself. I collected shampoo, conditioner and a body scrub from the vanity at the sink, then removed my panties and stepped into the steamy bath. It was heavenly. I washed my hair and body as fast as could and then spend a good 15 minutes floating about.

I still had about 20 minutes left, but there was no way that I wanted to be naked when he returned. Reluctantly I climbed out of the tub, there was a bathrobe hanging from a heated rail, I contemplated putting it on, but what if I wasn't supposed to? Eventually I slipped it on, it cocooned around me, swapping me, and warmed my cool skin. It was the first time in weeks that I felt cosy, and I enjoyed it. I pottered about, indulging in the little luxuries that I had gone without for so long. Moisturiser, a hairbrush, toothpaste. I used it all to try and make myself clean, to wash away the stench and grimy filth which that place had left on my pale skin, I did it to take my mind off of reality, off of where I had been, and where I was now.

Eventually time was up and stood and waited in the doorway for him to come back.

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I had been toying nervously with the sleeve of the rob when he returned, "is it okay..." I trailed off, what if it wasn't okay to wear the robe? What would he do? He could be completely unpredictable and could kill me and get rid of the evidence and then Renee and Charles would never know what had become of me. I frowned, I would become a statistic, another missing person, my erratic train of thought was interrupted by a far more practical statement from Sir GQ.

"Of course Isabella, you mustn't get cold. Once you're dry there is a shirt on the bed for you to put on".

I crossed the threshold to the bedroom and spotted the shirt, I was already dry. Swallowing hard at the idea of undressing in front of him I turn my back and loosened the robe, I was glad that I decided to recycle the white panties from earlier; despite having worn them for the past few hours. I dropped the robe onto the bed and quickly pulled the shirt around my body and hurriedly fastened the button. The shirt was soft and thick, and I closed my eyes briefly when I inhaled the comforting scents of fabric conditioner.

I turned around to face him once again. He was staring at me. I didn't like it.

"Come here, are you hungry?" He asked.

I didn't feel hungry, I just felt sick. In fact, the sheer thought of food made my stomach lurch horribly, so I shook my head. He frowned at me. For a moment my heart leaped in my chest, he looked angry.

"Well," he said patronisingly, "I want you to try and eat something, even it's only a little bit, okay?"

I nodded reluctantly. Just go along with it, I told myself. If it makes you sick, then it makes you sick. Just don't do anything which might piss him off.

I followed him and sat down on the same cushion in the sitting room, where I had been before my bath. He set down a plate of burger and fries and a glass of coke. My stomach churned.

I wondered if this was a test. Some sort of sadistic game he was playing. I eyed the food warily before looking at him, and then back again.

"Eat", he demanded.

I tentatively reached out and plucked one of the fries from the plate. I watched him the whole time, wondering what sort of game he was playing with me. I chewed and swallowed and waited. Nothing. He just smiled at me menacingly and nodded for me to continue. As much as I hated to admit it, having some food in my stomach actually made me feel a little better, so I carried on eating once he had walked away.

My meal was interrupted midway, when the door knocked and another man entered. I felt dangerously outnumbered now with him in the room. I watched cautiously as he passed a glossy shopping back from a store I didn't recognise to Sir GQ.

"I bought these for Alice, but, given the circumstances, I don't think she'll mind." The man said. I recognised his voice from earlier when we had been in the car.

They moved through to the other room. My eyes rested on the door which our visitor had just entered from.

And that's when it happened, for a single split second my common sense went on vacation. All rational Bella thoughts flew straight out of the window. Within a second I was on my feet, and running. I threw the door open with all my might and launch myself into the corridor outside, the door smashed off of the wall letting out an all mighty bang which shook the walls and echoed through the air. I stopped for a split second, recognising a neon green 'exit' sign and bolted towards it as fast as my legs would carry me.

I had reached the stairwell and had just turned into the landing when I heard the thunderous roar from behind me.

"ISABELLA, STOP!"

But I didn't. I ran.

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**Dun dun duuuuun!**

**Thanks for reading and I really really hope you enjoyed it! The next chapter will also be Bella's POV and I'll try and update it soon**


	6. Chapter 6

**Oh heck, apologies all, I haven't updated in forever.**

**Thanks again for all of your kind reviews (bar one so far). Please can I ask that if you're at all against dark, sexy, hot, yummy Edward that you stop reading now please.**

**Again, I own nothing.**

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My bare feet transitioned from the carpeted hallway and onto the cool concrete of the fire-escape, I heard his thunderous roar behind me, yelling at me to stop. I prayed and begged to any higher being who may have been listening to please grant me this one solitary wish. To allow me to escape; to get away and never need to face these monsters again.

My whole body was shaking from head to toe, maybe it was the fear and maybe it was the sudden adrenaline rush that was surging through my entire body, allowing me to finally feel alive again after all this time in captivity. My daily feelings of despair were finally replaced with a momentary hope of impending freedom. My trembling hand gripped tightly to the banister as I ran down the stairs, faster than I had ever run in my life. Ms Jenkins, my old high school Phys Ed. Teacher would surely have no reason to mark me as B- now.

I hadn't even noticed that the tears were streaming down my cheeks until my vision blurred to a hugely unsafe level for a person who was currently running for their life. I hastily wiped the tears from my eyes as I hurried my descent. Reaching the first landing I used my precious time running on a flat surface to peer up the gap between the flights of stairs; a frightened yelp escaped my lips as I heard hurried footsteps enter the stairwell, I only had about a minutes head start on them, and I was determined that I would maintain it.

"Please, please, please, please..." I whispered over and over again to myself; hoping as I said, that a higher being would rush to my aid.

I began my descent down the next flight of steps, I was trying to hurry my feet, but still go at a safe speed that I hopefully wouldn't fall and injure myself. I was three steps from the bottom of the flight when I reached over to the handrail on my left, still holding tightly onto the right; I swung my body out over the remaining steps and somehow managed to land gracefully on the landing below. I glanced up to check my progress and swiftly took off running again when I spotted three right hands all moving rapidly down the railing towards me.

I fell into a pattern, step-step-step-step-step-step-step-jump-run.

I checked my progress at each landing, there was only four in total, but somehow I was never able to broaden the gap between me us; as I continued to make steady progress, so did they. Before I knew it, I had reached the bottom, I whirled around, searching for an exit; a door, a window, another staircase, anything. I spotted a fire exit door, nestled beneath the staircase, if it hadn't been for the faint green glow of the sign I was sure that I would have missed it completely. It was one of those ones with the metal pole that ran horizontally across the centre of the door, that when you pushed it the door would spring open. I had watched too many scary films and episodes of CSI to believe that it would actually open when I launched my body full force against the bar, but it did. The door swung open hurling me out into the open street.

My lungs expanded with fresh air. It wasn't the musky scent of my cell, or the leathery interior of the car, nor was the sickly sweet fruity flower smell of the air freshener from upstairs; it was the hedonistic bouquet of freedom. And I loved it.

I ignored the dull throb of pain that consumed my left hip as my jutting, bony pelvis collided painfully against that damn metal bar of the door. But I didn't care. I was outside, by myself. I took off running again; I wasn't out of the woods yet, so to speak, but I was getting closer. It was freezing cold outside, dark, wet and windy. I ran out of the alley and into a much wider street, I was in a built up area, with what looked like shop fronts running all the way along the road. It must have been late though as they were all closed up for the night with no signs of life. It was deadly quiet and all of the buildings were in darkness, I ran on, quickly glancing behind me when I heard several pairs of running footsteps behind me, they were turning out of the alleyway and onto the main street, the distance had been increased slightly as they paused to check which direction I had gone in, they spotted me and then they were off again.

My shoeless feet ached as they pounded hard against the cobbled street and I quickly ran up onto the pavement, where it was flatter and smoother. My heart started to pound in my chest as my poor fitness suddenly caught up with me, the shirt I was wearing billowed loosely around me and did nothing to aid my speed. I turned sharply to the left, running down a street which forked about half way down, my heart leaped a little as I spotted a well lit area down the right fork and I took off in that direction. My breathing was become much more laboured and I could feel my heart start to burn inside my chest as the muscles in my arms and legs began to tire. I finally made it to the lights, I turned left and stopped.

I stood there, stock still, apart from my heaving chest as all of my thoughts of escape vanished at the shock of the sight in front of me. My feet cemented to the pavement, my arms hung loosely by my sides, the too long sleeves of the shirt covering my small shaking hands. My eyes welled will tears. A solid weight collided heavily with my back and two strong hands curled round and gripped tightly on my upper arms, so tightly in fact that, had I not been in a completely numb state of mind, I would surely have winced at the pain in any other normal circumstance.

"What do you think you're doing"? An angry voice seethed into my ear.

I didn't respond, not even to struggle away from his grasp. He shook me a little, but I didn't move. As drastic as it sounds over something that other people might consider being fairly insignificant circumstances, it was like I had died on the inside, like that little tiny bit of hope that had fuelled me on only moments before been extinguished, evaporated, gone. The wind whipped against my shirt, and ruffled my damp hair, I should have been freezing cold but I just couldn't bring myself to even concentrate on what my senses should have been telling me.

And then, it was almost as though he realised that something was drastically wrong with me. His grip loosened on my arms and he moved, almost warily, around me so that he was standing in front of me. He firmly gripped my chin in his large hand and tilted my face to meet his, but I didn't look at him, my eyes were still firmly fixated on my perfect view of the Eiffel Tower.

My body was gripped by two things which I really didn't want to have to think about.

"Isabella," he hissed, "I asked you a question, what. Do you. Think. You. Are. Doing?"

Fresh tears suddenly erupted from my eyes and finally my eyes flickered to look at him, my voice was thick with tears. "When did you do this?" I asked.

"What?" he demanded sharply.

His tone shook me, but I wanted to know the answer so I asked again. "When did you do this?" I whispered it this time, pleadingly. He looked confused for a moment.

"Edward?" A southern ascended voice behind me interrupted, I had forgotten that we were not alone. His, Edward's, eyes snapped up glaring over the top of my head to look at whoever was behind me. He paused and then nodded in response to a silent question. The next minute I found myself dangling upside down, I was facing the small of his back with my ass in the air and the fronts of my legs pressing tightly into his chest and stomach.

The three of them ambled back in silence, I was slung over his shoulder like a ragdoll, my energy to fight was completely distinguished and I was overcome with despair. I bumped awkwardly at every step that he took. It didn't take long for us to get back, wherever 'back' might be, and I found myself being plonked down next the warm radiator in the bedroom. He, Edward, huffed and stormed away into the bathroom only to return moments later with a towel which he flung in my face.

"Dry yourself," he ordered firmly, "before you get pneumonia". I rigidly picked up the towel and warily began squeezing the rainwater from my hair whilst I sniffled noisily. He paced the room a few times; he was clearly irked by my attempted escape. He finally stopped his pacing, "when did I do what?" he asked.

I looked up at him, my eyes wide and watery and for moment we stared at each other with speaking. "You asked me, _'when did I do this'?_ Do what exactly, Isabella? He stared at me until eventually I managed to find my voice.

"Bring me here?" I replied so that it was more a question than an answer. A look of intense irritation crossed his face.

"When did I bring you here?" he clarified. I nodded hesitantly, and he sighed. "You know this Isabella, I brought you here today, in the car, you _do_ remember the car." It wasn't a question; it was more of a statement. I shook my head. "You don't remember the car?" he asked disbelievingly.

I shook my head again annoyed with myself that all of a sudden communication seemed like the hardest thing on the plant for me to do, "that's not what I meant," I whispered.

Suddenly he was on me, pulling my hair and tilting my head back, "That's not what I meant, Sir." He dictated harshly. I sobbed out, my hand covering his so he wouldn't pull so hard, but he let do instantly, pushing my head away from him. "Explain what you mean, Isabella, and stop being so cryptic, try using whole sentences."

I took a deep breath, "when did you take me on a plane to Paris? Please, I don't remember. I remember your voice, and the stones, and the car, and coming here, but not the plane. Please, please tell me when that happened, cause I don't know. I don't remember. I'm sorry that I don't, I am trying to remember, but I can't, it's just not there. Sir.

I looked up at him, his expression was unreadable, he waited a while before he responded, he seemed to be choosing his words carefully, "the auction was in France, Isabella. How you came to be in France, or when you came to be in France is not my doing. Where is the last place you remember being, Isabella"?

"Phoenix," I answered tearfully.

"Well then," he replied, "then we can only assume that it was the auction house that shipped you here. Is that not correct, Isabella"?

I nodded. He studied my face for a moment, his green eyes almost turning black.

"What is it that frightens you most about this new found knowledge, Isabella"?

I paused, "that I don't remember", I whispered, "that I don't know what happened to me...if they," I paused and flushed with embarrassment, "if they hurt me or something."

He stared down at me, his eyes thoughtful for a moment, "they better not have," he responded, "the price that I paid for you". And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

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**Well done! You made it to the end!**

**Thanks for reading and please feel free to review...in fact, I'm actively encouraging it!**

**:o)**


	7. Chapter 7

**WHOOPEE! I've got 101 reviews and I'm seriously chuffed about that! Thanks all who have reviewed! :o)**

**Big shout out to hockeymom4 and MissWed for your reviews, what you wrote struck a chord.**

**I've had a few people asking if this story is all human or if the vamps will be making a entrance at some point, and I can say without a shadow of doubt that as far as I'm aware there aren't any vamps in this story, but hey, who knows what'll happen in the future ;o)**

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BPV

Waking up it took me a moment or two to realise exactly where I was. The second that my eyelids fluttered open I almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous I had been. I quickly made a mental note to myself to never again watch the movie _Taken, _with Liam Neeson, if this was the reaction that it had on me. I closed my eyes again and pressed my face into the soft feathery pillow and inhaled a lung full of the homely scent of my mother's soap powder and camomile fabric conditioner. I smiled softly and grabbed a fist full of duvet cover, pulling it up and under my chin so that my entire body was cocoon in the cosy warmth of my big snugly double bed.

_Ah_, I thought,_ sheer bliss_.

I could feel the already warmed rays of the morning sun pouring through my open blinds and bathing me and my little bedroom in sunlight. Its happy heat softly kissed my pale cheeks and tickled at my nose; dancing merrily on my shut eyelids. I could hear the radio in the kitchen downstairs blaring out Don't Stop Believing, and I mentally pictured my Mom dancing about the kitchen, pretending that she was 21 again, mouthing the words into the back of her wooden spoon microphone. I could hear the swallows that built their nest under the eaves of the house twittering incessantly and the sound of a lawnmower buzzing somewhere in the little cul-de-sac where we lived.

I wondered what time it was but I was so reluctant to open my eyes. I was so comfortable and cosy, never before had my bed ever felt this good. My nose twitched at the smell of bacon wafted up to my room and I began salivating at the mere thought of it, layer it onto of warm buttery toast with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice on the side.

I smirked to myself; Phil must be here as well, there was no way that Mom could ever have cooked the bacon and not set off the smoke detector. I cuddled closer to my pillow again.

"Isabella. It's the morning, time to wake up now".

"Hmmm," I half groaned, half mumbled. I felt the mattress dip as someone sat down next to me.

"Now, Isabella."

Huh? That was a man's voice. My eyelids flew open at the same time as my head whipped up off the pillow, and I found my staring into those horribly familiar green eyes. My heart sank, it wasn't a dream. I bit my lip, determined that wouldn't start crying again...just yet.

"Come on now Isabella, sit up for me, there's a good girl," he cooed to me. I sat up, shuffling backwards on the bed until I was being propped up by the pillows. I stared at him, wondering how much trouble I was in following my short lived jail break last night. I studied his face, but he didn't look particularly annoyed or angry.

He reached over trying to fluff the pillows and smooth out the crumpled duvet cover, when I was settled comfortably he handed me a plate with bacon, scrambled eggs and warm buttery toast. I inhaled the wonderful aroma, secretly wanted to ram it all into my mouth at the one time so that he wouldn't be able to take it away from me. It brought me back to the dream I had woken with this morning, warm and comfortable and safe in my childhood home; where my Mom had been downstairs cooking my favourite comfort-food breakfast.

I looked up at him again; he was smiling softly to me which unsettled me even more, surely if I was his property he would have been seriously pissed off that I'd try to run away from him last night. He should have been angry at me, depriving me of food, pulling my hair and kicking my ribs. I knew that's the way he should have been treatment me, because that's how the men at the auction house had treated me the first time they tried to make me strip. I had refused, fought back and kicked one of the men square in the crotch during my struggles. I had paid the price for that though, and vowed never to do that again. The pain which had followed would forever be engrained into my memory.

Engrained, I though as I bit my lower lip, just like his words from last night which still rang ominously in my ears, _"the price I paid."_ I had known that he had paid money for me, and I knew that at some point in the future he would be expecting a value for his money. Exactly when this was due I had no idea, nor how big a price I would need to pay.

His calm voice interrupted my thoughts, "eat, Isabella," he instructed me, "you need to eat your breakfast now, you can daydream later."

Daydream? I almost spluttered out load, daydreams were supposed to be of happy things, like Josh Cooper from my English class finally realising that I existed and proclaiming his undying love me. Of course that would never happen, not with the perfectly beautiful Lauren Mallory hanging off of his arm. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't say that I was ugly, but I was plain, forgettable even.

I hesitantly accepted the fork that was being offered to me by the stunningly attractive man that was sitting at my bedside. Slowly I began munching on the plate of food in front of me. Surprisingly this time I was actually hungry and was enjoying my meal, not like the half eaten burger from last night. The food melted on my tongue, the salty bacon, the peppery eggs and crispy warm toast all satisfying the growl which had been brewing in my stomach. When I had finished he removed the plate from my lap and handed me an icy cool glass of orange juice which I quickly gulped down.

For the first time in ages I felt full, my belly was satisfied, and the food hadn't been some disgusting gruel, barely warmed porridge or a gristly meat stew. It had been warm, comforting and, above all else, reminded me of home.

Edward stood and drew the covers back from the bed, "go get ready now Isabella, we need to be leaving in an hour, and we don't want to leave you behind," he grin mischievously at his own joke. I didn't. It wasn't bloody funny; I'd have traded my soul to the devil to be left behind. I slid out of the bed and padded soft to the bathroom. I left the door open as he had requested the night before and jumped into the shower, quickly washing my hair and body. I wrapped my body in a towel as I brushed and dried my hair.

When I returned to the bedroom I found that some clothing had been laid out on the bed for me. I brushed my hand gently over the items as I silently rejoiced in the sheer happiness of being able to wear clothing again. I quickly changed into the underwear, followed by a deep purple terry cloth tracksuit. I had just finished getting changed when Edward returned to the room. He stopped just inside the door and cleared his throat. His face was set hard in a serious expression.

"Isabella, we need to deal with your little misadventure last night." He stated calmly.

My eyes widened, I had almost forgotten about his reaction to my misadventure, as he put it, as it hadn't mentioned immediately this morning. I took a frightened step backwards and away from him as he took a step towards me.

He held his hand out to me, "Isabella, come here, this needs to be discussed." I looked at him, he didn't look annoyed or irritated, I bit my lip, weighing up my options, I couldn't escape him, and he had proved that point last night. I hesitantly took a tiny step towards him and place my small hand into his much larger one. He wrapped his fingers around mine, enveloping them in his warmth and then pulled me closer to him.

"Isabella," he sighed softly, "what you did last night was wrong, do you understand that Isabella?" He waited patiently for me to answer.

I nodded my head apprehensively, wondering where this was leading. He smiled briefly at my answer before he continued his facial expression changing rapidly as he did so.

"Isabella, you will _never_ try and _run_ from me _again_," his jaw clenched and unclenched tightly and for the first time I spotted the undercurrent of blazing fury burning deep in his emerald green eyes. My breath hitched in my throat. "_You_ are _mine_, and god help you if you ever forget this, Isabella."

I held my breath trying desperately to control the shaking in my arms and legs. It surprised me these days how quickly my body could change its physical reactions to each circumstance, only moments before I had been semi relaxed, happy will my new comfortable clothing and a stomach full of food, and now, only minutes later I was terrified again.

He turned my hand over and smoothed my fingers out, holding it towards him with the palm side up, he laid a thick black leather strap into my open palm and held it there.

"Isabella," he whispered, "this is partly my fault, and for that I'm willing to accept half of the blame, I should have explained the rules to you as soon as I bought you." He stepped closer to me, pressing his mouth against my ear, "for your benefit, Isabella, rule number one; don't ever run from me, okay"?

I barely nodded, my show of understanding was nothing more than a mere dip of my head.

"But you still need to accept responsibility for your error in judgement, you still need to be punished, Isabella."

I gasped, "Punished?" I wheezed. He nodded, brushing my hair away from my face.

"Yes, once you accept your punishment, Isabella, there will be nothing hanging over us anymore, you will be forgiven. The punishment will also help you to learn, anytime the idea of running away enters that pretty head of yours, you'll remember your punishment and it won't seem like such a good idea".

My heart thudded franticly in my chest as I looked back over at the thick ominous looking leather strap which lay in my hand, was he going to whip me? My eyes glistened with tears which I swiftly blinked back. He held my hand out towards him, his strong fingers clasped tightly around my slender wrist, and then for the next few seconds my reality didn't seem to be my own. I was like the audience viewing a live sitcom, I was there, I could see it all unfolding, I was a party to it, but it wasn't me. But in reality it was.

These things were supposed to happen in slow motion, always always in my books when the story is being told in the first person, they always describe the horrific event that they are being subjected to by claiming that it happens in slow motion. It's the same in films; everything slows down, whilst all the elements of the scene are captured in their full cinematic glory. The pained cry for help, the squeal of tyres on asphalt, the crunching of metal, the body on the gurney as insanely attractive Doctors attempt to save the life of some poor dying patient.

But for me everything happened in real time, perhaps this was a good thing; he raised his arm, his own hand holding the strap and then lowered it, whistling it through the air, cutting it in two as it made its way sharply downward until it compressed solidly with the delicate skin of my upturned palm. For the first few seconds after the first strike I couldn't feel the physical pain in my hand, but I was completely aware of how my stomach felt. It seemed to drop down by at least an inch within my wilting body. My insides burned, as though I'd just knocked back a glass of acid. I must have been onto the third strike before the pain actually hit me. It consumed the entire palm of my hand, burning up through each of my fingers as though I had pin and needles. The sharp edges of the leather were cutting with each blow into my skin, creating hot firey lines of pain.

He struck again and my ears roared as a long overdue sob escaped my lips. I tried to yank my arm away, fighting to protect it, but he held tight. Again he struck, this time I screamed and the tears finally escaped my eyes, I struggled in vain as I saw him raise his arm again, my eyes met his cold green ones as he brought it down one last time, snapping it off of my hand. My scream turned to a howl, a noise I never thought that I would hear myself make, and my knees buckled beneath me.

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I perched warily on the edge of the vanity unit in the bathroom, my hand fully submerged in a sink full of ice water while Edward finished the rest of his packing. A few times I had removed my hand to view the damage which had been inflicted on me, it hurt like hell and it was already beginning to bruise. I cursed him every and any name that I could think off. I hated him.

We would be leaving here soon, I had asked him where we would be going, but he wouldn't tell me, only said that I was to be quiet, and asked me if I wanted to find myself in anymore trouble. He had been right, the burning pain in my hand did serve as a reminded, and I had swiftly shaken my head.

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**Thanks for reading, if you're bored you could always review? *smiles innocently***


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks again to all of you that have been reviewing, I love reading them!**

**I know you want longer chapters and I really did try...but failed miserably to do so in this chapter. I found this chapter really difficult to write (hence the huge delay), perhaps because it's Edward's pov, I'm not really sure. Anyway, it hasn't come out quite how I wanted it to, but if I tease it anymore I probably end up pulling my hair out...not that bald isn't a good look...**

**Thanks again to all who are reading, and I promise that I will work on longer chapters in the future.**

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_Edward's Point of View_

And so it began.

I hadn't wanted to punish her. I mean, nobody _wants_ to have to punish someone, especially someone as sweet and as innocent as Isabella, my little lamb. I had surmised that it was her innocence which had drawn me to her in the first place, from the very first moment that I had laid eyes on her. Bound as she was, cold, frightened, alone; I had wanted nothing more than to reach out and free her shackled wrists and legs, and then gather her in my arms and tell her that everything would be alright. I wanted to stroke her face and kiss and her cheek and make everything better for her.

I had watched the other buyers, men and woman, circle her like vultures at an 'all you can eat buffet', they had roughly palmed her breasts and slapped her ass. I had watched as her lower lip quivered until she stilled it by biting down hard. Too hard. I wanted to free that delectable ruby lip of her. I wanted to save her. I wanted to protect her. I felt _very_ protective of her.

After 30 minutes the auction began but I just could not take my eyes off of her. Throughout each of the sales she didn't move an inch she remained stalk still, the perfect statue of living flesh. She was an absolute treat for the eyes, right from the top of her mahogany covered head and down to the soles of her tiny crinkled feet.

I smiled now at the memory of when I first removed her blindfold, the first time that she saw me, and the heated crimson blush which coloured the apples of her cheeks. I could read her mind at that moment, surprised that the hideous ogre of her nightmares didn't exist. She was wondering what a man like me wanted a girl like her for. I deduced that she had been the ugly duckling in her younger years, and ironically she had grown in to the beautiful swan that she was now. She was still to realise how striking she had become, I found it amusing how much her own mind deceived her.

I watched her now as I sat opposite her. She was sleeping curled up in the wide, cream leather aeroplane seat aboard my family's private jet as we flew home. Her head was resting against the armrest, her impossibly long dark eyelashes twitched rapidly along with her dreams. Emmett had taken the seat to her left and Jasper was diagonal from her.

Jasper was paying no attention to anyone, opting instead to bury his nose in a book about the French Revolution. He was a history buff; his speciality was studying any of the great battles or wars which had been documented over the years. Emmett was contenting himself with studying Isabella, much like I was. Emmett was the joker of the pack, always hatching some sort of plan or escapade.

My brothers had already found their own significant others, Rosaline and Alice, and they were both very much in love. In the past I had teased Emmett that his beautiful Rosaline could easily be the reincarnated Helen of Troy, her stunning looks were simply captivating, yet she had been known to start wars. She was an elegant strut of long, lean legs, boobs and soft blonde curls which framed her face. It was difficult for me to describe her face, one moment she would simply resemble a fallen angel, sweet and innocent, long lashes and big expressive eyes, but in a second she could snap and adopt a ferocious snarl which would probably be enough to scare away even the bravest of men. Quite simply, Rosaline was sexy on legs. She and Emmett both doted on each other, hardly able to keep their hands off one another for long, often running off to some secluded part of the house or garden for some alone time.

Then there was Alice and Jasper who were completely different; they were a more private, serene pairing. They were quiet in their ways, only publicly displaying their affection for one another through a relaxed embrace or chaste kiss. Jasper had always been so patient and gentle with Alice, he had rescued her from an abusive Master despite our father, Carlisle's, warning that she may be more damaged mentally than she had been physically. She had been broken and beaten, and during those first few months with us she had completely retreated into her own mind to escape her reality. It was a million miles from where she was today; she was bright and bubbly, and when she was happiest she was full of exuberance and excitement. I enjoyed any time I had spent with Alice and I had marvelled at her resilience.

I was ashamed to say that I slightly jealous of my brothers and their respective pairings, several times over the past year or so, I had found myself studying them with a sense of envy and I wondering on numerous occasions where my relationship with Tanya had all gone wrong. But deep down I knew that I could pinpoint the exact moment when our relationship had started to crumble. I had given Tanya everything and in return she had held my heart in her hand; before crushing it in her fist.

I stared at the sleeping girl before me as I shook the memory of Tanya from my head. I still felt a bit bad about punishing Isabella, after all she was new, she hadn't been given the chance to learn the ropes; but needs must; give them an inch and they'll take a mile, that's how the saying goes, right? So I had strapped her hand six times to show her how very wrong she was for running away. I had partly blamed myself for the incident, which could have ended so much worse. It had been because of this that I had decided to strap her hand and not her perky, creamy white bottom instead. I understand that this reasoning might sound absurd to some people; if half of the blame lay at my door how exactly does Isabella being punished, and me not, balance out? The answer, it doesn't. I am the owner and she is the owned, so it doesn't really matter what anyone else thinks, does it?

But it hadn't been a pleasant experience, one which I didn't wish to repeat, but I would if I needed to. I had been furious the previous evening when we returned to the hotel suite, so angry that I just couldn't trust myself to carry out the punishment without seriously hurting her, which is why I had waited until the morning, until I was relatively calm. Her eyes had been filled with fear and surprise once she realised what her fate was, but by that point it had been too late to turn back, for both of us.

I relaxed further into my leather seat as I slung my ankle across my knee to cross my legs. I opened the manila folder which I had been clutching in my hand and balanced it on my thighs. On the front leaf of paper was a printed photograph of Isabella, she was staring up at the camera with glazed eyes, red rimmed and watery, her lashes were wet and stuck together in sticky clumps, her face blotchy and her cheeks shiny with tears. Her hair was unwashed and knotted. Under the picture it stated her full name, Isabella Marie Swan, and her date of birth, 13th September 1987. I turned the page and began to read the more comprehensive breakdown of Isabella and her life before, during and after her abduction. She had been taken from her familiy on 10th September, two days before her birthday. Happy birthday Isabella.

Her mother and father, Renee and Charlie Swan had divorced when she still a young child, her father was a fisherman in San Francisco and, following their divorce, Renee had taken Isabella and moved to the warmer sunnier climates of Phoenix, Arizona. There Renee had finally settled down with Phil, a minor league baseball player. Renee was an eccentric, flitting without abandon from one job to the next, she had tried her hand at just about everything; shop assistant, waitress, cleaner, classroom assistant, childminder, the list went on.

Isabella had summered most years with her father in San Francisco. It had been her own great misfortune that on one of these trips to visit with her father that the Brake Brothers had spotted her. The Brake's were a notorious family within modern slaving circles, they carried out their job with meticulous precision, watching their target for weeks, sometimes months, in order to build a complete background history before picking the perfect opportunistic moment to snatch them. They had hand-picked a variety of males and females over the years; shy submissive, bold and brave, blondes, red-heads, smart, funny, stupid. There was something to satisfy every taste, but usually with one commonality; they were alone. Someone whom few people would miss; sometimes they were homeless and other times had little, or few, family. It was usually people who would not arouse too much attention.

I turned the page and continued to read, Isabella was smart, she had achieved excellent grades in high school, excelling in English and Biology, she was from a lower middle class background and her family had little money to spare for her further education. Luckily she had been granted with a scholarship and during the time of her abduction she had been spending her summer working long hours to save for her first semester at the University of Alaska. The file went into more detail about her parents, her family, and her past-times. It even went so far as to detail her first punishment and her reaction to it, apparently she had reacted badly when the guards ordered her to strip off her clothes, she of course had been beaten following her transgression.

The final section detailed Isabella's medical history and I couldn't help but wrinkle my brow into a deep frown as I read. Had she been neglected as a child, I wondered. She had constantly been in and out of hospital all her life; sprained wrists and ankles, bruises, dumps. Either that or she was a complete klutz. I didn't dwell on her medical history for too long though, my father was a doctor and at some point over the next few days I would ask him to check her over himself. Not that I didn't trust the Brake's examination, but you wouldn't buy a car without checking under the bonnet yourself, would you?

I studied Isabella's file for hours and only stopped once Jasper announced that it was only 30 minutes until we landed, I closed the file and stored it away in my flight bag. I watched as Isabella began to stir from her sleep and I grinned as she fought feebly to open her tired eyes. The file had been good for collecting initial information on Isabella, but I longed to experience her for myself and I found myself growing excited at the prospect of getting to know my new delicious little slave; both inside and out.

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**Thanks for reading. I really, really hoped that you liked :o)**


	9. Chapter 9

Hi All, sorry for the big, massive delay, I honesly don't know where the time went.

Thanks to all who reviewed and added the story to the alert and favs. Thank you all! :o)

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**Bella's POV**

_I shrieked loudly and ran off in the opposite directly with a giggle, my brown curls bouncing behind me. The wet sand beneath my yellow wellington boots made running all the more awkward, my four-year-old arms flailing wildly, like a marooned seagull, inside the confines of my overstuffed winter jacket. _

"_It's coming for you Bells," Charlie yelled, "he wants to pinch you nose."_

_I giggled and shrieked again, covering my button nose with my mitten covered hands, "no Daddy, don't let it." _

_He crept towards me, his heavy footsteps leaving feet shaped hollows on the nearly pristine sands, he held the crab away from him, its scuttling legs crawling in the salty sea air. He dived for me, wrapping a protective arm around my tiny body; I giggled and squealed with hilarity at my dad's antics. He made his way back to the rock pool, bouncing me under his arm like a football, and released the crab. I watched as he scurried away._

"_Bye, Sebastian," I called softly._

I awoke from my sleep still tired and slightly disorientated, the dull roar of the plane engine was the only noise which I could hear, as I fought to open my heavy eyelids; my lashes sticky with sleep eventually pulled apart. I had never been on a private jet before, and it was smaller than I had imagined it to be. Not that I wasn't impressed, it was a far cry from the normal passenger jets which I usually took to San Francisco when I had visited Charlie for the summer. The seats were wider and more comfortable, more like an armchair, and upholstered in a cream buttermilk soft leather. None of my fellow travellers seemed to be terribly impressed by our most recent mode of transport, but then had I reasoned with myself that someone who is rich enough to buy someone illegally would also probably be rich enough to afford to travel in style.

There was no way to tell how long we had had been flying for or how long I had been asleep, and I was reluctant to ask, my throbbing hand served as a painful reminder that I was not in control.

My eyes adjusted to the dimly lit cabin; outside the little portcullis windows I could see the clear night sky with its generous spattering of haphazard stars, some shining brighter and bigger than others. Astronomy had always fascinated me, ever since I was a little girl, and my dad would take me away on overnight fishing trips where, out there in the wilderness, there hadn't been much else to do at night but star gaze. I suppose the magic of stars also appealed to the dreamer within me, and I questioned if my mother was looking out at the same night sky wondering what had become of her only daughter. I glanced upon a dimly lit star up in my sky, one which didn't stand out amongst some of its more showy neighbours; I didn't want that little star to be forgotten so I decided to make a wish. I wished that whatever pain my parents were experience through my absence would dull quickly, that something, or anything, would somehow mend their fractured hearts, that if I wasn't able to return to them, that they would soon be able to find some sort of peace to my disappearance.

As I silently formed the words in my head I knew that I would never be able to return to them, they were lost to me and gone forever. I would never again have a movie night with my Mom, or laugh at her complete inept in the kitchen, or roll my eyes at whatever her latest fad was. I would never see my Dad reclined in his favourite chair, clutching a beer and watching the game on the flatscreen. My purple bedroom was gone. My collection of Jane Austin novels with their broken spines would remain shut. Someone else would take my place at the University of Alaska and move on with their life and achieve the dreams that I now would never be able to. I had been plucked from my world and my life and forced into a restricted cruel existence.

I didn't cry this time as I thought about these things, maybe I was coming to terms with my new life. In some ways I hoped that this was true, in the past I had been too emotional. Maybe if I could lock my mind away and then throw away the key then perhaps the dull ache in my chest would eventually subside.

Edward sat forward and placed a cool hand on my cheek, "Isabella," he spoke softly as my eyes flickered to meet his, "we're nearly there, sit up for me love, there's a good girl".

I slid round on the warm leather and sat upright, my muscles groaned in pain. I longed to stretch but I was too shy to do so; I tucked my feet under me instead and tried to make myself as small as possible. I could feel three set of eyes watching me and I shifted uncomfortably under their gaze. The one to my left spoke and I could not help but snap my eyes up to look at him surprise, it had been the first time that someone other than Edward had addressed me directly.

"Is-a-bella", he toyed playfully with my name, "does your name ever get shortened to anything?"

I swallowed nervously; he was a huge bear of a man who obviously spent half of his life in the gym. His muscles were intimidating large. I must look like a toothpick next to him; he could snap me in second. I eyed him warily before he raised an eyebrow at my obvious hesitation.

"Bella", I croaked quietly.

His face broke out into a wide friendly grin, he was the first person to smile at me like that in, I don't know how long. I could feel my wary expression soften, although not entirely.

"Well Bella", I caught him throw a smug expression in Edward's direction as he said my name; "I'm Emmett. Do you like rain?"

"Rain?" I repeated softly as a puzzled expression crossed my face.

"Yeah, you know, rain? Cold wet stuff that generally falls from the sky."

I frowned, not entirely sure that I was following this conversation; had I missed something? I quickly sneaked at glance at the man sitting across from Emmett; he was watching our exchange with an amused smile dancing on his lips.

Edward cleared his throat loudly and then all eyes were on him. He threw a dark look at Emmett.

"Emmett", he cautioned in a low controlled voice.

Emmett's face broke out in a sheepish grin as he jokingly held his hands up in surrender. I took from that that our conversation was over, and it pained me that it was. It seemed like he was actually nice, and I wondered if I could get him on his own then perhaps I could persuade him to let me go. I hadn't realised that I was still staring until I heard Edward clear his throat again; quickly drawing me out of my thoughts. He was looking at me inquisitively, his brow furrowed in frustration. I felt the heat rise in my face as I squirmed under his intense observation. I tried to ignore him, looking out into the blackness again.

The flight began its rapid decent, a small squeak escaped my pursed lips as our tiny plane landed on the runway with several rough bumps. My body braced back into my chair as the speeding aircraft started to slow abruptly around the whooshing and whirling noises which roared in my ears. I had never been a big fan of take-off and landings, and this one had been particularly terrifying for me as the high winds and rain battered off of the plane and assaulted our decent. A strong hand gently squeezed my knee and I slowly opened my eyes.

Edward was crouched in front of me, one hand on my knee and the other clutching a pair of black sheepskin Uggs.

"Bella sweetheart, we're here," he pointed out. It was only then that I realised we had come to a complete standstill. The plane no longer moving and whirling engines had finally come to a stop a low whine.

I was still a bit shell-shocked, I sat motionless and looked at him blankly like I no longer understood English.

He pulled my legs towards him and proceeded to pull on the boots, they were cosy and warm, like wearing a pair of slippers and I curled my toes around inside them, digging them into the woolly fleece. I'd never had a pair of them before; mind you, living in Phoenix I'd never had a need to own them before.

Edward rose to his feet, "Come", he ordered.

It took me a moment to realise that I was still clutching the edge of the seat in a death grip, my nails digging harshly into the leather. I slowly released my hold on the chair and I stood up unsteadily, trying to work the kinks and stiffness from my legs. We were the only ones left on the plane, Emmett and the other one must have disembarked the minute the plane had stopped. He curled his strong fingers around my upper arm as he led me down the steps and onto the tarmac. We were inside of a small aircraft hanger; apart from our plane it was pretty much deserted. The cold night air hit me even before I had left the cabin, and I shivered involuntary, my breath leaving my body in misty puffs which hung in the air for a moment before they dispersed and evaporated.

Emmett was standing about 100 yards away from us next to the open door of an immaculate forest green Land Rover. The windows were tinted dark but I could just about make out the one with the curly blonde hair sitting being the wheel. Emmett grinned at us and gestured towards the back seat with his thumb.

"You like the cold, Bells?" He boomed at me.

"Emmett!" Edward scolded him again through gritted teeth. Emmett rolled his eyes and then winked playfully at me. I quickly glanced up at Edward in surprise to see what his reaction was, he didn't look happy.

One the other side of the forecourt I glimpsed the pilot as he made his way towards a sleek navy Audi and for a fleeting moment I wondered if he didn't realise that I wasn't here by choice. I winced as I felt Edward's hand squeeze tightly around the flesh of my upper arm.

"Don't cause a scene love, no one here will help you". He told me calmly. He help me into the backseat of the car, leaning over to buckle my seatbelt, I sank back into the dark leather interior and pushed myself as close to the door and away from Edward as possible.

The journey by road only took us a half hour or so. I watched through the gap between the front and passenger seats to look out of the window and, although it was pitch black outside, the front car lights lit up the road ahead and illuminated our surroundings. It was nothing like Phoenix. In Phoenix the roads had seemed wider, they were dusty with dried earth and they stretched straight ahead without bending for miles at a time. This road was narrow and winding, with tall forests of green on either side. They were imposing and suffocating and I longed to rid myself of them, to stand in an open space and not have to feel like the world was closing in around me. The massive drops of rain dive-bombed themselves through the evergreen canopy above our heads and then showered down on the car with impressive force.

Eventually the car slowed and pulled left into a narrow lane, the lane was bumpier and the overgrown shrubbery scraped along the side of the car as we moved forward. I could feel my panic start to slowly build as I wondered where we going, but my panic was short-lived as eventually we broke free of the woodland and stopped. We were parked in front of a large house, it didn't appear to be particularly old, all fancy brick work and windows which made up entire walls. The house shone like a beacon, all lit up like a lighthouse, some kind of terrifying magnet to draw home its inhabitants.

I was extracted from the car on leg which didn't seem to work properly; I stumbled forward as I was led toward the house, towards my new prison. The rain had now subsided to cloudy drizzle, but the ground under foot was soft and it squelched with every step that we took. We made our way up the stone steps to what I presumed was the front door, Emmett reached it first, turning the handle and stepping in out of the cold moist night and into the soft yellow light of the hallway.

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**Please R&R**

**Thank you :o)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, remember me? Can't believe that's been so long since I last updated. If you're still sticking with story then, thank you! :o)**

**I've had a couple of questions which I've failed to answer on the past few chapters; **

**1) there are no vampires in this story, and **

**2) I honestly don't know who dark this story is going to get, so if you're worried about it getting too dark then I would ask you to either a) stop reading, or b) pay attention to any warnings at the begining of chapters. I won't post anything risky without warning you first so the choice is yours but please remember that I've rated this story an 'M'.**

**Thank you so much to everyone that's read, reviewed, added etc. I'm completely in awe at the moment. BIG thanks to marmite400 who reviewed and gave me the idea for the following chapter.**

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Renee's POV

Thirty-five days full days it had been since I last saw my baby's beautiful face. It had been my fault that she had left that night; she had planned on making beef stroganoff for dinner and the only thing that I had needed to remember was to buy mushrooms at the store. In my typical harebrained manner I had forgotten. But she wasn't mad. I think perhaps she was use to my lack of organisation and forgetfulness; she was always the little grown-up, _had she ever been a child_, I wondered to myself. So she had left that evening, her face an expression of careful patience as I apologised profusely and tried to argue that I would run out and get the forgotten mushrooms.

I still remember exactly how she looked that last time that I saw her; how could I not? Her image would forever be ingrained into my memory as since that night I have described her in careful detail over and over and over again to anyone who would listen to me.

"Excuse me, have you seen this girl? Her name's Bella, she's 17 years old, 5,4, with wavy brown hair. She was wearing dark blue jeans. Excuse me, this is my daughter, she's missing, have you seen her? A blue t-shirt with a red Superdry logo. Excuse me, please; I need to find my daughter. White tennis shoes. Miss, could I leave these flyers here, they're for my daughter, she's missing? Officer, has there been any news? So nobody has been admitted who even vaguely fits that description?"

The answers were always the same, "sorry ma'am, I'm in a hurry. No ma'am, I'm afraid not. No, but I'll keep an eye out. Not today Mrs Dwyer, someone will call you if there's any news. Sorry lady; an amnesiac with blond hair, looks to be in her mid-thirties, was brought in on Tuesday if that's any help?"

The doors shut in my face, the phone lines went dead, I got familiar with staring at people's retreating backs as they hastily made their way back to their perfect life's, their perfect families, and still I was no closer to finding her.

That day, I had watched her from the living-room window and waved to her as she pulled out of the drive. I didn't watch her drive away after that, instead I turned and started to sort through the mail which Bella had left on the table for me. If I had only known that that would be that last time that I would see her then I would have watched until the car drove completely out of sight. When she hadn't returned an hour later I started to get worried. Two hours later I _was_ worried. Three hours later I was angry. I phoned the police who quickly informed me that she needed to be missing for 24 hours before they would investigate; they said that she was a teenager and that she had probably gone somewhere to blow off a little steam about something. I tried to explain that my Bella had never been a teenager, but they wouldn't listen. I was worried again.

Phil came home and was quickly turned about and sent straight back out again to look for her whilst I manned the phone encase she called. He found her car straight away, parked in the side-street by our nearest store; a brown paper bag of squashed mushrooms lay strewn on the ground nearby. And now, thirty-five days later, there was still no sign of what had happened to my beautiful Bella.

Thirty-five long days and thirty-four even longer nights tends to allow your thoughts to run wild. I blamed myself for her disappearance , in the early days it was simply for allowing her to go out that evening, but as time went on my mind convinced myself that it ran much deeper than that. I was only a young girl when I became pregnant with my daughter; it was the summer right after I graduated from high school and I fell hard and fast for an incomer to the town, Charlie Swan. Charlie was tall and handsome, there was something of an authoritative brooding air to him which only led to further my infatuation with him, all the girls my year were swooning over him. After school ended I had plans to travel the US with some of my girlfriends, we planned to work the summer and save our money, it was the mid 1980's and we longed for the bright lights of New York. I managed to land a summer job working in the local diner, The Carver, where Charlie would come in almost every night; I was on cloud nine when our casual conversations quickly blossomed into a summer romance. It was nearing the end of the summer and I had already begun my preparations to leave my sleepy hometown when I discovered that I was pregnant with Bella. Things were different back then and Charlie being the man he was asked me to marry him. I was young and scared and pregnant with a child whilst I was no more than a child myself; I quickly accepted and a few weeks later at the mayor's office, I became Mrs Swan.

My friends all went off on their travels, sending postcards of all the places which I still longed to see. They went to New Orleans and listened to live jazz music in open-air bars, went on dates with Harvard boys and partied at Studio 54 on its last night of business. I resented the baby which grew in my belly which held me back from my dreams, my previous infatuation with Charlie grew weaker by the day until I only ever saw him as the prison warden who would keep me forever incarcerated in this god-forsaken town.

The months went by and the autumn turned to winter, the leaves died on the trees and lay withered on the ground. The snow followed, covering the ground in a thick blanket of white and as the small ponds and pools around us froze for the winter, so did my heart. It was at this point that I was at my lowest. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime in the dark, the warmer weather of spring finally began to make an appearance again, it was in the early morning of a sunny day in mid June that my little Bella made her debut to the world. She was a tiny little thing, all red faced and wrinkled with a mop of dark hair on her head. I took one look at her and finally my heart thawed, I adored her in an instant as I stared at the sleeping angel which I held protectively in my arms.

The years passed quickly and little Bella grew, she was my only escape from the oppressiveness of my life. My marriage to Charlie eventually crumbled and I left, taking Bella with me. Over the years I didn't give any thought to my earlier resentment of my daughter, all that had ebbed away that day in the hospital; it was only now that I had time to think on our life together that I began to wonder if this was my punishment for those early days.

I sighed deeply as thick tears formed in my eyes, I looked out at the starry night sky, clutching her photography to my heart, and wondered again where my baby was. Today had been one of the tougher days since her disappearance.

_The doorbell rang once; at first I thought that I was imagining it. Nobody ever rang the doorbell anymore, the neighbours avoided us, I don't think that they knew what to say anymore. That was fine by me; I didn't want to speak to anyone these days anyway, not unless they could give me information on where my missing daughter was. I lay curled on the sofa and continued to stare blankly at the empty television screen. The doorbell rang again, for longer this time, and it seemed to snap me out of my haze. Wearily I pushed my body from the sofa, my joints and bones ached as I stood, I pulled my cardigan around my hunched body and staggered to door, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the hallway mirror on the way past. I hadn't changed my clothes since yesterday, I probably smelt, my hair was tied back in a haphazard ponytail, although most of my hair had fallen out of the elastic which tied it. My skin was pale, verging on grey, my eyes sunken and hollow and lifeless. I tugged open the front door and blinked, squinting out into the afternoon sun._

_Two police officers stood on the porch step and for an instant my heart soared, before it plummeted again. Their eyes were downcast, their lips formed into tight white lines, they each clutched their hats respectfully under their left arms. They were bringing bad news. My hand flew to mouth as I let out a gasp, or was it a wail. The pain in my heart doubled, and then doubled again, until the ache was too much for my body. _

"_Bella," I gasped through my hand. Their eyes flickered up to meet mine and they suddenly softened in understanding. One of them spoke hurriedly as though they were ripping off a bandage._

"_Mrs Dwyer, this is about your ex-husband, Charles Swan."_

_I stared at him in confusion, "what about him?" I asked, although what I really wanted to do was scream, 'where is my Bella'?_

_He spoke softly, "Mrs Dwyer, I'm sorry to have to inform you that your ex-husband was involved in a boating accident yesterday. His fishing boat was overturned in a swell; the coastguard did everything they could. My condolences to your family at this time, his body was found in the early hours of this morning."_

_He laid a sympathetic hand on my shoulder as I let out a rush of breath which I hadn't known I was holding. I nodded mutely as I turned back into the shadows of the house, "thank you, officer, for letting me know."_

_He nodded and replaced his hat back on his head; the news was over, my body numb. I wanted to cry, I wanted to weep for the dead father of my missing child, but in that instance winter had found its way back into my heart. I was frozen for the second time. They turned to walk away._

"_Wait," I called desperately. "My Bella, do you have any news?" I already knew the answer, I already knew that they brought no news of her, but I couldn't help to rein in that moment of hope._

_He shook his head solemnly, "Not today Mrs Dwyer, someone will call you if there's any news"._

A tear made its way down the curve of my weathered cheek as I replayed the news of Charlie's death in my head. Perhaps if I had loved Charlie more, perhaps if I'd remembered the mushrooms, perhaps if I'd fought harder to go out to the store, perhaps if I'd gone to look for her earlier, perhaps then she would still be here.

Guilt, I thought, is an all consuming emotion. It eats its way into your heart and your mind, it curls itself around your memories and suffocates them one by one until not one of your memories is guilt free. I wandered slowly through the darkened house, my fingers dancing idly on a heavy paperweight ornament; it was tiny townscape of Paris, complete with a miniature Eiffel Tower and Arc de Triomphe, all set into a heavy glass orb. I picked it up, clasping it tightly in my hand like a baseball before hurling it through the still air. It collided and shattered the hallway mirror, splintering it into a thousand shards. The weight bounced off its surface and rolled near my feet, I stooped to pick it up and examined it carefully. A large crack marred its surface, forever destroying my view of Paris.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;  
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;  
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.  
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

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Thanks for making it to the end! :o)


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey everyone, I hope you enjoy the new chapter.**

**As always thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has reviewed and added alerts to the story; and to all those who PM'd. Your support is amazing.**

**This is a mostly Bella chapter with an appearance from some guy...who's name escapes me ;o)**

**Please, please please review. I love the reviews; they mostly either perk me up or give me ideas for future chapters**

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I squished my body back against the wall as far as I could; wedging my bum between the narrow gap between the king-sized bed and the dark walnut bedside cabinet. I clawed my toes into the plush cream carpet beneath me as if it was the only thing holding me to the earth as my world continued to spin around me. Timidly I shuffled forward slightly as I reached up onto the bed, I curling my trembling fingers around the edge of an embroidered blanket which lay folded at its foot. It slid off the bed and pooled into a golden puddle on the floor, I dragged it back and wrapped it around my shaking body and shuffled back into my hiding place cubby-hole. My eyes felt heavy and swollen and for a second I contemplated allowing myself to fall asleep; but I knew that I couldn't allow myself to be so unprotected and unprepared.

My eyes darted back and forth, sweeping across the darkened room; I felt a little more protected here. Boxed in.

"Only one direction that the enemy can come from," I whispered quietly to myself.

I would see them coming. I would kick them and scratch them. I would fight them off. I wouldn't let them touch me again; I wouldn't let _him_ touch me again, with his exploratory fingers whilst the other one stood and watch, his green eyes narrowed, his hands in his pockets whilst I begged and pleaded with him not to let this happen to me. But he did let it. The blond one, the new on, poked and prodded at me whilst he stood and watch liked I was some sort of freak show. A shudder moved the length of my entire body as I remembered the feel of his gloved hands as they swept over the swell of my bare breasts.

"No abnormalities; lumps, bumps or worrisome blemishes," he calmly informed Edward. Edward nodded once to show that he had heard. I whimpered quietly a tiny squeak escaping my parted lips. He pressed firmly on my abdomen. "Has she eaten anything?" he queried.

Edward nodded, "a little, not much though. She had a couple of bites from a burger and a few fries..." he started to explain. The new one stilled his prodding of my stomach and shot Edward a disapproving look.

"A burger and fries? I thought I told you that she would need light food until her stomach was able to adjust to a proper diet again, Edward?" Shocked, I held my breath and sneaked a glance at Edward so that I could watch his reaction; he looked embarrassed as he ducked his head and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "Did she manage to keep it down?" the new one pressed.

Edward nodded, "yeah, but as I said, she didn't have much."

The new one nodded and went back to prodding me, "probably just as well; vomiting, abdominal cramps, sweats, dizziness. She was lucky; actually, you were lucky." He reprimanded him with a light scowl on his face.

He drew himself up to full height and pulled the sheet back up to cover my stomach and chest; I relaxed a little once the feeling of being so self-consciously exposed began to dissipate. That was until he slid my butt down so that I was perched right on the edge of the examination table, the realisation of what he was about to do to me didn't actually register until he had already guided my right leg up so that it was bent and spread. I yelped and tried to scoot away from him, almost managing to roll myself off of the table, his cool hand wrapped tightly around my calve and pulled me back whilst, at the same time, Edward cleared the room in two giant strides and pinned me back to the table again; his strong hand pushing firmly down on my collarbone. I stared up at him in fear.

The other one meanwhile was trying to get my leg back into position but I had already decided that I wasn't going down without a fight. I inhaled a deep lung full of air; screwing up my face I let out the loudest, longest scream that I could muster, my head flailed from side to side, my legs wriggled and kicked, my back arching up from the table.

The hand on my chest pushed harder, the fingers around my ankle and calve tightened, and a hand clamped tightly over the top of my wailing mouth. I felt something pressing against the side of my face, something weird, something that was prickly and scratchy. My eyes snapped open; his, Edward's face was pushed right up against mine. His nose pressing into my temple, his lips next to my ear, his scratchy unshaven chin forced down onto my cheek.

"Shut. Up." He hissed. But I didn't, I drew in another breath and let forth another ear shattering scream. In hindsight I don't really know why I bothered, it was blatantly obvious that nobody here would come to my aid; my screams would never get them to change their minds about what they were about to do, to reawaken their dormant senses of right and wrong. The hand over my mouth clamped tighter, the palm pushed my lips painfully against my teeth, his fingers dug deeply into one cheek whilst his thumb pressed into the other and he squeezed.

"I said, shut. Up. Isabella." He drew back and glared at me. "How's your hand doing, Isabella?" My eyes widened and my scream stopped dead as my lungs gasped for breath. "Now, I'm going to give you a choice here, Isabella. Do you understand?" I nodded, his hand still covering most of my face. "You can either work with us, or," he paused, "I can asked Emmett and Jasper to come in here and help me hold you down whilst Carlisle finished his examination. Which will it be?" He looked down at me, "the second one?" I stared back up him; my eyes flickered down warily to the man at the foot of the table, blond haired and strikingly handsome, Carlisle. I shook my head from side to side. "The first one then?" he clarified. My eyes went back up to meet Edward's, but only for a second before my vision clouded over with tears. I gave a tiny nod in defeat as I squeezed my eyes tightly shut.

Surprisingly, the hand which has been cramped tightly over my mouth gently moved to my hair and began brushing the strands of my tangled locks away from my face as my mind drifted back.

_It was a cool autumn day, it was a Sunday afternoon when Charlie wasn't at work. I had been begging him for weeks about teaching me to ride my new bike without stabilisers. My friend Jake had been teasing me for ages because I still used them. We had been at this for the past hour and I was getting tired and Charlie was getting grumpy. His hand pushed tightly against the small of my back whilst his other one guided the saddle of my bike. This time, I thought to myself as I peddled faster, my teeth furiously chewing my bottom lip in concentration. I felt Charlie's hand push me off gently before it disappeared completely; and I was off. I could hear him as he let out a whoop of joy, whilst my Mom cheered and clapped from the front yard._

"_Go Bells," he yelled as I peddled down the quiet tree lined street. I let out a laugh of excitement; the breeze whipped against my rosy cheeks and tousled my hair. I could barely contain my happiness and I could hardly wait to tell Jake._

_It all happened so fast; one moment I was giddy with happiness and the next I was lying in a muddled heap on the ground staring up at the murky grey sky. The wet ground soaking up through my jeans._

"_Bella," I heard my mother shriek; followed by two sets of pounding footsteps as they made their way towards me. Charlie's concerned face popped up in front of me, his large rough hands patting at my arms, my legs and my face._

"_Baby, are you okay? Are you hurt?" I looked at him in shock; I wasn't hurt but I had scared myself silly during my somersault over the handlebars of my forest green rally bike. I looked at him stunned before my lower lip began to quiver. Charlie's face quickly disappeared and replaced with a hysterical Renee. _

"_Bella, sweetheart, are you okay?" she placed a loving hand tenderly on my forehead as she gently brushed the strands of my tangled locks away from face._

I winced as the speculum was eased inside me; it was cold with copious amounts of lubricant, not painful, just slightly uncomfortable and very embarrassing. I was trying my hardest not to start crying hysterically but I still managed to sniffle noisily. I flinched in shock as a tissue began roughly wiping away the few tears which managed to escape and then finally rubbed at my runny noise. My chest heaved, my heart beating so loud that I could feel it pulsing through my whole body.

I have no idea how long I stayed like that; with my eyes screwed tightly shut and Edward's hand mussing my hair, but eventually after a while I felt the instrument being pulled from my body and the sheet being lower to cover me. I scoffed at the idea of it being used to try and salvage my dignity.

"Why bother?" I whispered as I rolled over onto my side, effectively turning away from both Edward and Carlisle, before I finally dissolved into tears.

I feel it now. I thought that I had felt it before, but I realise now that what I had felt before was nothing like the immense feelings of despair which now consumed me. For whatever reason I felt like a part of me had been lost completely today; that even if I was ever able to return to my home, that things would, for whatever reason, never be the same as it was before. A little piece of me had died today, but what that piece was, I just couldn't seem to put my finger on.

I realise now, as I sit here huddled in my hidey-hole between the cabinet and the bed, that I truly am fighting a losing battle. Nothing that I have done since my abduction has even brought me slightly closer to my life. A solitary tear dribbled lazily from the corner of one eye. The tension left my shoulders and I allowed them to flop heavily at my side. I concentrated on slowing my breathing, returning my heart rate to a normal speed. I didn't even look up when I heard the door open.

The footsteps paused just inside the room before the owner spotted the top of my coffee locks rising above the height of the bed; he crossed the room and squatted in front of me, his hands clasped in front of him, steadying him. The silence and the stillness of the room was deafeningly uncomfortable; slowly I raised my eyes to meet his.

"I'm never going home, am I?" I whispered.

He remained static for a moment, as though he was contemplating his answer. Eventually he shook his head, "No Bella, you're not." He paused while I nodded; while I used his answer to confirm what I already knew. He spoke again, "perhaps it would be easier for you to start thinking of here, as you home".

I shook my head silently as my eyes flittered around the room. We were silent again for a moment until hushed voices from the hallway interrupted the awkwardness. It was a female.

"But Jasper, she'll want to see me. We going to be friends," the voice protested.

"Alice. Edward will tell you when it's okay for you to visit her," was Jasper's firm response.

"That's fine then, I'll go ask Edward right now if it's okay." Both Edward and I looked up in the direction of the door. I heard an audible sigh come from the hallway before Jasper spoke again, his voice was warm and soft.

"Alice, you remember how you felt when you first came here?"

Silence.

"Bella won't be comfortable here just yet, perhaps just give her a couple days to settle in? Huh, darlin'?"

There was another moment of silence, before she spoke again; her voice sounded slightly pained. "Please ask Edward to be kind to her, Jasper." She pleaded, "I don't want...she can't...it's not nice, Jasper. I know how it feels...to be scared. But Jasper, she does need a friend. She won't speak to Edward. She won't tell him how she feels. I know how she feels Jasper; because I was a 'Bella' once too."

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**Congrats! You made it to the end! :o)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Holds out Chapter 12 as a peace offering for not updating in...forever.**

**Thanks again to everyone who had read, reviewed and added the story to their lists. I'm honestly so grateful for your support of the story.**

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She was such a timid looking thing; what with her tear stained cheeks and her rumpled hair, her thin arms wrapped tightly around her shins as she pulled her knees up under her chin. Right now Bella was fragile, she was skittish and afraid and in my heart I longed for nothing more that to wrap my arms around her and promise her that everything would be alright; given time. The silence which filled the bedroom was not a comfortable one; I could almost hear the inner workings of her brain as she tried to figure out which way the chips were falling for her. So it took no straining on my part to follow the voices outside of the room, and if I was able to hear their conversation then so was Bella.

It was just like Alice to want to meet Bella and take her under her wing. I would never forget the period when Alice had joined our family, as unconventional as it was, although it was a time what we rarely spoke of because some of the memories were just too painful for us to relive. On the outside Alice was tiny, petite with elfin features and a carefully styled crop of black hair. However Alice was like a book who's cover shouldn't be judged. To the ordinary person on the street Alice probably appeared like the perfect human being, in her perfectly chosen outfits as she dangled merrily on the arm of her besotted husband. Nobody would ever be able to guess the horrors which plagued her days and nights before Jasper reached her.

I sighed deeply, slightly unsure as to what to do with Bella now. I was ill prepared for this. I hadn't had any intention of actually buying a companion during my trip; although I won't deny that I hadn't toyed with the idea lately. I ran my hand through my copper hair in frustration before I rose to my feet, my knees cracking loudly as I did so. I crossed the room and closed over the still open door, the mechanical lock clicked shut and the electronic light switched with a rapid blink from green to red, signalling that the door was secured. I crossed the room again and settled myself on the mahogany leather armchair by the window. I removed my blackberry from my pocket and used our quiet time to begin working through my neglected emails; I was aware of Bella's bloodshot eyes following my every move.

I had been working diligently for over an hour, my eyes squinting from using the tiny screen for so long, when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Bella had remained steadfast, with an unwavering commitment to remain jammed between the bed and the cabinet; until now. She was slowly rising to her feet, her back sliding at a snail's pace up the wall, her delicate fingers tracing her pathway upwards as her eyes remained warily trained on me. My eyes flickered over in her direction and she stilled, frozen, and I saw the panic in her eyes as she didn't know what to do. I held my breath, almost afraid that any movement from me would further panic her; but I was intrigued. I wanted to know what she was doing; I wanted to know how brave my new little kitten would be. The doors and windows were secured so I knew that she could not escape, and I highly doubted that she would be able to overpower me; and even if she could, what then? I outwardly turned my attention back to my emails but all the while was paying attention to my girl.

She remained plastered to the wall, her quiet gasping breath the only noise which cut through the stillness of the room. I timed her on my blackberry; it was 10 minutes later before she moved again. She clambered clumsily onto the bed and shuffled sideways before dropping softly on to the carpet at the other side. Bella may have been many things, ninja she was not. She tiptoed lightly across the floor, circulating the circumference of the room as she gave me the widest berth possible before she disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

I let out a quiet chuckled; at least if she kept that up she would surely keep me entertained at the very least. She was gone a while, remaining in the bathroom long after I heard the toilet flush and the running of the taps, until the door creaked slowly open. She slid cautiously along the wall again moving away from me in the direction of the bedroom door. I clutched my blackberry tighter reminding myself that the door was locked. She stood facing me her back to the door with both of her hands behind her clutching the door handle. She watched me for a second obviously aware that she was pushing the envelope, waiting for my reaction.

She got none.

She twisted the handle and the expression on her delicate features changed rapidly from wariness to despair, she rattled the door again as she grew frustrated with its obvious lack of movement until a lone sob escaped her cherubic rose coloured lips. Needless to say I was slightly surprised at how quickly Bella could turn from being an adorable, docile little mess to a shrieking, she-devil, uncontrollable mess. I watch with open jaw as she turned and began rattling it with all she was worth, when that failed she began all out wailing as she pounded her clenched up little fist off the door over and over again.

"Fire!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "There's a fire!"

I slowly came to my sense and jumped from the seat and marching towards her; "Bella, cut it out" I snapped. She turned her tearstained face towards me, glancing at my advance over her shoulder. She began striking the door again with renewed vigour.

"Fire!" she bellowed, drawing the word out into one long shriek.

I grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back away from her door. "I said, enough". She kicked her feet up into the air, hammering her heels off the wood whilst she was still able to reach; although her constant wriggling was difficult to contend with and I felt myself begin to lose my grip on her tiny form as we fell backwards. What happened next was nothing more than a series of unfortunate, poorly timed events.

Both Bella and I landed in a heap, the plush cream carpet of the bedroom cushioning most of our fall. Bella landed with an adorable (if I hadn't been so pissed), 'oomph'. Which I think was borne out of surprise more than anything else. At that same moment the bedroom door burst open and in stormed Emmett and Jasper, with my father at the helm brandishing a bright red fire extinguisher. Bella caught sight of him and dissolved into screaming hysterics, trying to move away from him she backed into me which, once she realised what happened, caused her to scream even louder.

Fuck. My. Life.

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**Bella's POV**

The horribly familiar feeling of nausea riddled my body the second that I realised what I had done. I had caused this. I froze in pure, icy fear and my screams stopped.

The room was silent again, worryingly so considering there were five people in it. The only sounds which invaded my ears where my own pounding heart and my rapid breathing like I just completed the New York Marathon.

_I want Renee_, I thought to myself. _I want my Mom; my Mommy. I want my Mommy to hug me and tell me everything is going to be okay; that she's coming to get me soon. I want my Mommy._

A strong hand settled on my shoulder, "Bella?" Edward's voice came the most gentle I'd heard it so far. I couldn't stop myself.

"I want my Mommy," I blurted out in soft rapid whisper as a stray tear ran down my nose and dripped off the end.

The stillness was shattered by snort of laughter from the doorway.

I blushed, the crimson heating my face and neck and staining my cheeks, and I turned to look, in the doorway stood a tall, statuesque blond; her mouth twisting up in a patronising sneer. "Aw, does poor baby Bella want her Mommy to chase the bad men away?" she mocked.

"Rosalie," Emmett spoke to her in low commanding voice, one which I could barely hear, "please go our room, I'll be along in a little while".

Rosalie, whoever she was, ignored his direction and sauntered further into the room her arms crossed lazily under the curve of her chest. She smiled at me sweetly, too sweetly and batted her mascara'd violet eyes innocently. "But I'm just trying to help little virgin Bella get settled in to her new home, Em".

I shrank back at the mocking of my sexual inexperience and my reaction didn't go unnoticed.

She let out a tittering giggle, "Oh honey, Edward here wouldn't lower himself to dabble in broken goods. Ain't that right _Edward_?" She spat out his name as though it were poison.

"Rosalie, now," he responded. His voice was a little more forceful than I'd ever heard it before.

She sighed theatrically but didn't move. "I'm kind of speechless, Edward." She announced as she looked me up and down, "this is what you came back with? What was it; an end of season sale?"

I won't deny that her comment didn't hurt a little.

"Emmett, please do something with your wife". Edward snarled.

"Rosalie!"

"Oh, come on Emmett. That's pathetic," she exclaimed as she pointed at me. "He moons around for long enough and then come back with that! And you say that she had a scholarship? To where? Clown School?" She let out a cackle of fake laughter. She turned her attentions back to me again, "Honey, if I were you, I wouldn't even bother trying to run away from here. I mean, lets face it, your attempt in Paris wasn't exactly a great success now, was it? Here, you've got no chance. You're slap bang in the middle of a great big forest." She cocked her head in closer, her eyes twinkle with mischief, as though we were sharing a secret. "Emmett never actually got around to telling me the juicy details of what happened after you got caught," she paused, "So? Did big bad Edward pull down your panties and give you a spanking?"

I was silent, surprised and embarrassed by her horrible outburst and yet one thing stuck out in my mind.

"How...how do you know I've got a scholarship?"

She threw her head back and laughed. "You're so stupid," she bellowed, "It's. In. Your. File. Numbskull.

I bit my lip and fought back the threatening tears; however her speech was cut short by the arrival of yet another female. A shorter woman, with caramel coloured hair and a heart-shaped face. She flitted into the room, her expression calm and composed, as she forcibly turned Rosalie in the direction of the door and, in a no-nonsense way, nudged her in its direction.

"Out," she commanded. I think I was more shocked that Blondie actually went without argument. She prodded Emmett, a man twice her size, in the arm; "you as well." She tapped Jasper's shoulder on the way passed, "and you." She caught Carlisle's eye, "if you will excuse us?"

My surprised eyes flickered in fascination as Carlisle nodded and all three of them edged towards the door. She was now looking at me and coming straight for me; I braced myself for an onslaught of some description but it never came. Instead she settled on her knees in front of me and wrapped me in the most deliciously motherly embrace that I could have hoped for.

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I snuggled deeply into the feathery soft pillow, my tears finally having finished. Wonderful Esme was perched on the edge of the bed, gently smoothing my hair away from my face. My eyes were slowly growing heavier but I didn't want this kindness to end so I was desperately fighting sleep.

"Shhh," she cooed, "I'll be here tomorrow, just you get some rest, pretty girl". The soft skin of her forearm rested gently along one side of my face and I turned towards it as I shut my eyes, breathing in the scent of her perfume. She had tried her very hardest to make me forget this-evenings events, and Rosalie's harsh words. She ran me a bubble bath, gave me new pyjamas, made me a cup of sweet tea, tucked me into bed, dimmed the lights, lit a camomile and lavender scented candle and turned on some gentle piano music to help me relax. It might have worked, but Edward was always present in the background. Watching with his eyes of emerald green.

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**Thank you so much for reading. I hope that you enjoyed it. Please let me know by reviewing!**

**:o)**


	13. Chapter 13

Hello, I really hope that you enjoy this chaptered. I know that it's not very long but it seemed like a good place to tail off. Anyway, I just wanted to thank all of my amazing readers who read, review and add me to you various alerts, it honestly means so much to me to have your support.

Finally, can I ask (again) that if you don't like this genre then please don't read it. It makes no sense to me why someone would read it all and then complain about it. It's kinda like those people who sued MacDonalds because it made them fat...like, seriously?

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**5 Years Previous, The Cullen House - Vermont**

"56 Mississippi...57 Mississippi...58 Mississippi...59 Mississippi...60 Mississippi... ... ... ... 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi..."

"Alice? Sweetheart, I need you to stop and look at me. Can you do that? Just look right here, darlin'," My brother spoke calmly, patiently, pointing slowly at his own wide, tender blue eyes. A mere stranger may not have noticed the slight begging tone which his voice held; but I did. Jasper was my brother, and I knew that he did not use that tone often; or at least since he had been a teenager.

"10 Mississippi...11 Mississippi...12 Miss...13...12..." She lost count. I watched the frightened girl, Alice; her eyes glazed over as though lost in thought. I watched as she threaded her fingers through her uneven, hacked-off, brown hair, she curled her fingers into tiny fists and began to pull her hair outwards from the root.

Jasper quickly reached for her, placing his much larger hands over the top of hers to hold them down to her head, "No Alice, stop. You'll hurt yourself, let go now." Jasper's tone had changed to that which one would use to scold a young child, though the tenderness had not faded from his eyes. "You were on 12, Alice. 12 Mississippi."

The fog seemed to clear from her hollow, lifeless eyes as she peered up at Jasper and met his gaze for the first time in two days. "12?" she whispered questioningly.

He nodded his assent. "12."

"12 Mississippi," she breathed, and the fog returned.

The room fell into silence as Jasper and I shared a troubled look. She rose to her feet, dropping the blanket as she stood. It pooled around her ankles, leaving her as naked as the day she was born; not that she seemed to notice. Brushing past both Jasper and I she left the room with Jasper at her heels. He hurried past her and turned to meet her, gently clasping her tiny, bony shoulders within his broad hands.

"Alice, where are you going?"

"I have to find the room," she whispered.

"What room?"

"The room," she replied, desperation slipping into her voice.

"You mean the bathroom, Alice?"

"NO!" she shrieked, "THE ROOM!" She launched her body at him and curled her small fingers around collar of his crisp, pale-blue dress shirt, clutching it so tightly that her knuckles turned white with effort. She lowered her voice to a mere whisper, her eyes searching his as he stare back, his eyes filled with worry. "Please, the room? I need to get back, I don't think I'm supposed to leave." Her voice rose to a squeaky whimper at the end.

I watched as Jasper ducked forwards and, with a little awkward bending on his part given his height, brought himself eye-level with Alice. "Alice, that's over with now sweetheart, you're not going back..."

"NO!"

"_Yes_, Alice. Remember, I explained yester..."

"NO, YOU'RE LYING TO GET ME IN TROUBLE!" she shrieked as she tore out of his grasp, fighting feebly to hit his chest with her ball up fists.

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Present

It had taken little effort on Jasper's part to fight off her weak fist-work, though it had taken a long time for my family to get over the painful memories of when Alice was brought here; although it took even longer for Alice to get over her nightmares and the dark, distorted recollections of her macabre past. For five months I never lost count of how many nights I had lain awake listening to her terrified screams created by the terrors of her sleep. And the reason why I never lost count was because it had been a nightly occurrence. I had paced my room, listened to music, covered my head with a pillow, some nights I even sat outside her room and listened as Jasper tried his best to sooth her; the whole family did this at one point. And that is how we came to learn her past.

Little Alice had been taken from a children's home to be sold at auction, she had been 16 at the time and lost in the system, deprived of education, passed from home to home to make room for other children, never creating any bonds, never knowing the love of a mother or father. Following her abduction her existence had been little more than that. Existing. She had been incarcerated in a dank, dark, windowless cell. She was a procession. Alice had never been 'a toy' or 'a play-thing'; for two long, solitary years not one living sole spoke a word to her. The scraps of food would come in, and the waste would come out; and that was her days, nothing more, and nothing less. She was treated like an animal and a savage and towards the end was nearly driven mad by loneliness.

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Five Years Previous, The Bux'Mount Residence

It was at a New Year's party five years ago, which our friend James' parent were hosting, that we found out about Alice and my brother fought for her release to him. It had been in the early hours of New Year's Day and we were drunk but beginning to sober.

My head flopped back against the horrifically ugly antique sofa. "James, your party rocks but your god-damn sofa sucks so much ass," I moaned.

"Don't be hater, Cullen," came his muffled response.

"I'm not kidding, dude. Wha's it stuffed with, bricks?" I kneaded the back of the sofa with my elbow as though that would somehow soften it up. I'd been watching Jasper for while as he tried to fight sleep and he had finally dosed off about 5 minutes ago, I found the perfect opportunistic moment and launched a solid scatter cushion at his head. He woke with a startled grunt and looked around in confusion and, noticing my smirk, flipped me the middle finger.

"You guy's going to the auction today?" James asked casually.

"Nah, 'it's New Year's, its family time'," I responded, doing a slightly hammed up impression of my Dad. "Besides, I thought you already got yourself a girl? What's the point in going?"

"No, my _Dad_ got me a girl. She was this crazy little pixie thing, completely not my type. I've seen her once in like...two years, or something."

"So you got rid? That's cold, Dude." I told him with a laugh.

"Nah, she's still here. She's like...in the basement, or something".

My eyes flashed to Jasper as he sat up and began taking an interest in the conversation, he quirked his brow. "You keep her in the basement?"

James let out a fed-up huff, "I dunno, maybe. I don't go down there." He looked between Jasper and I's perplexed expressions. "What?" he asked moodily, "you wanna go down and see?"

Jasper and I looked at one and shrugged. "Sure, we got time".

The three of us made our way down to the basement. I always thought that James' house was really cool, all us boys had pretty much grown up together and practically lived at one another's houses; the Cullens and the Bux'Mounts had been friends for years; in fact, I think our Dad and James' Dad had also grown up together. Their house was ancient and massive and had an air of a gothic mansion to it, the old slate roof, the wrap-around porch, spooky attic, and it even came complete with stone gargoyles; believe me when I say that the Halloween parties which had been thrown here in the past were off the hook.

Our trio trudged down the stairs to the basement, it was chilly down here and I shivered hoping that James was wrong and that some poor girl was having the sleep down here. We wound our way around the stone floored corridors until James found where he was looking for. By this time my whole body was consumed by a feeling of unease and I repeatedly found myself silently hoping that James was mistaken. Why on earth would they give someone a room way down here? Their house was massive; they would have more than enough space up stairs for her. The basement was cold, dark and smelled like damp; I could practically feel Jasper bristle as we were led to a heavy wooden door with a bolt...on the outside. I didn't like this at all, and I knew for a fact that neither did Jasper.

The bolt squeaked and creaked as James jimmied it open along with the door; the bile rose swiftly in my throat at the stench which hit us.

"Fuck sake!" James spat in disgust as he cover his nose with his hand.

The odder of human filth seemed to permeate the entire space. I looked into the room, my eyes adjusting to the poor light though I spotted her after a few seconds, the tiniest little ferial human-being. She sat naked staring up at us, her hair matted and overgrown, with hair sprouting from her legs, armpits and groin, and her toe and fingernails were yellow and curling. Her skin was sallow and caked with dirt and grime and lord-knowns-what-else, her cheeks were sunken and her eyes black, I could count her every rib.

James glowered at her in contempt and revulsion.

"Edward, go get Dad," Jasper told me tightly. I used Jasper's request as an excuse to flee from the sight before me, it had been so disturbing to me that and another human being was being kept in such conditions. Slave or not. Emmett now had Rosalie and she had always been treated like his princess, and Dad had Mom; and I hoped and prayed that nobody every treated my Mother that that girl back there. I flew up the stairs from basement and sprinted to get my father.

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Present

I watch from my chair as that once frightened girl curled lovingly into Jasper's side and rested her head on his broad chest, he hugged an arm around her still tiny form and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her dark choppy locks. He shifted the history book that he was reading so that Alice would be able to look at it as well; although we all knew that she was not reading it. Despite her best efforts her reading was still not that advanced, although she had come on leaps-and-bounds since we first discovered that she was almost illiterate.

And that was how it came to be. Coming into this life Alice felt no void in her heart to once again feel the loving arms of her mother being wrapped tightly around her and made to feel safe. She did not know and therefore she could not miss. The first person to ever tell Alice that she was loved had been Jasper. She had just turned 20 years old.

Bella was different from Alice though. Their previous situations were not comparable with one another. Bella had been a child very much loved by her parents who, despite their separation and their differences, always stood shoulder to shoulder and supported their daughter from the side-lines. I sighed, frustrated with myself as the disjointed ramblings in my head continued. Was I feeling remorse for buying her? But I couldn't, I told myself. I had saved her at the auction; there was no way that I could allow another to purchase her, and when I spotted James' father I knew that there was no way I could leave France with the innocent brunette. The way that she twisted in her bondage, fighting and struggling against it, the furious blush which coloured her cheeks whenever someone would touch her intimately, I had almost growled when I watch as someone else cupped the soft, round flesh of her breasts and rub the puckered, rosy peaks of her nipples.

Bella had never known the love of a lover, but over time I would make it my mission for Bella to fall for me; the one who saved her. She would break my heart and she would not betray me; she would be nothing like Tanya.

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